


The Many Personalities of Spain

by Writer_Girl_19



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 16:18:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1020787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Girl_19/pseuds/Writer_Girl_19
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England, in an attempt to get rid of his most hated enemy (Spain), casts a spell that will erase his existence. As usual whenever England tries his hand at magic something goes horribly wrong, leaving Romano to deal with the many different personalities of Spain. That sounds like a normal day for Romano, right? Well it would be if it weren't for the fact that each personality has its own personification now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: A Spell Gone Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way shape or form, Hidekaz Himaruya does.
> 
> Warning: Later chapters will contain explicit language and BL (BoyXBoy). There may or may not be graphic scenes later on, it depends on how comfortable I am writing them.

     "That bloody bastard. He's pissed me off for the last time!" An irate England snarled, striding through his house towards his study, already thinking of what curses he could use, which ones would cause that Spanish git the most pain.

     Upon reaching his study he flung open the doors and started to search the shelves for his spell books. There had to be one that could offer a spell or a curse gruesome enough, right? Though, if worse comes to worse he could always cast a hex on the arse's precious little South Italy.

     He was about to do just that when one of the old tomes he rarely used fell to the floor, opening to a page that presented the perfect spell to the infuriated Brit. A twisted grin quickly spread across the country's face as he skimmed through the spell.

     " _To destroy one's enemy, the power you seek, to divide his strength, and leave him weak. You must this spell repeat…"_

     Arthur had never used this particular spell before, he was not quite sure what the spell promised in its cryptic words but as long as it destroyed one's enemies then surely it was good enough to use again Spain.

     He quickly read the spell aloud, chanting words so old even he had forgotten most of them and their origins. Despite this, he was sure he was pronouncing them correctly and he was positive that when the room lit with a brilliant green light that he had cast the spell flawlessly. All that was left was to wait for the next world meeting to roll around; then he could gloat when the Iberian nation failed to arrive.

     Oh yes, Arthur was sure that nothing could deprive him of his victory and that nothing could dampen his mood, not even that hamburger loving America. Especially not him.

     The United Kingdom of Great Britain returned the ancient tome to its proper shelf before deciding to leave it on his desk where it did not face the risk of falling again. He was not certain the old book would survive another fall, besides he might have need of it again. After all, he had been wanting to knock that accursed frog down a few pegs recently.

     He left the room, smirk wavering as he briefly contemplated whether this was a little extreme when all Spain had done was accidently run into him at the World Meeting today; no doubt he'd been chasing Romano again. He quickly shook this thought from his mind and firmly affixed his smirk; assured that he was in the right. After all, Spain hadn't apologized had he.

     The door swung shut behind England, leaving him unaware of the ancient tome that he believed he'd left sitting closed on his desk flipping back open to the page from which he'd casted the spell before turning to the next page.

     " _He will be divided, the strength of one shall become three, and the past will be given form. Only through the acceptance of all may the three reunite to become one._ "

     However that couldn't have been too important right?

* * *

     Spain locked the door behind him, Lovi was always lecturing him about how he forgot to close the doors, so cute. He then shuffled up the stairs, thoroughly exhausted and sore. Why did his little tomato have to punch so hard? All he'd wanted was a hug. Didn't help that someone had tripped him as he tried to catch up to the feisty little Italian. If he were a gambling man he'd have bet it had been England, but they'd been on okay terms recently so it probably wasn't him.

     He collapsed into bed, a warm smile making its way onto his face. He would get to see his precious little Lovi soon. He'd promised all flustered and stuttering that if the Spaniard had left him alone for the rest of the meeting he would visit as soon as he felt like it. He hugged his pillow close. If he knew his Lovi, and he did, then that meant he'd be here sometime this week. He couldn't wait!

     The tingle that ran up his spine just as he drifted to sleep was completely ignored. Probably just excited about seeing Lovi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has already been posted on Fanfiction.net and is currently up to chapter 24. I am posting it here as well before anything too explicit is added just in case it gets taken down over there due to FF's more recent policy towards fics with graphic content. This version is slightly different than the one posted on Fanfiction.net in that the majority of the chapters have been edited a few extra times since their original posting on FF; nothing major has been changed.


	2. Ch 1: What Did You Do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way shape or form, Hidekaz Himaruya does.
> 
> Warning: Explicit language and BL (BoyXBoy).

* * *

Okay, so let's get one thing straight. I am not visiting Spain because I miss that tomato bastard; also, I was in no way missing my colony days. I was just visiting because if I didn't he would start to pout and whine, and when that didn't work (Shut up, that shit doesn't work on me) he would start to call me and leave obnoxious messages on my home phone as well as my cell phone.

     Yes, the only way to prevent that headache was to just give in now and get the damn visit over with. Besides if the last World Meeting was any indication the bastard was just days from showing up unannounced on my front lawn, demanding to be let in and "let boss give his little tomate a hug".

     And before you accuse me of showing up unannounced, I'd told the bastard at the last meeting I'd drop by soon. You know, if I felt like it. Which just coincidentally happened to be the day after the meeting…shut up, I don't miss that pervert! I just told him I'd visit get him to stop chasing me around at the meeting yesterday. I was only here so he wouldn't do it again.

     I parked in front of said pervert's house, if you could call it that, it's more like a freaking huge mansion. I still have unpleasant memories of getting lost in those damn corridors as a child.

      As I stepped out of my Ferrari I serious contemplated getting back in and driving the Hell back to Italy before the bastard knew I was here, but of course luck is never on my side and no sooner had I started to step back into the car did the front door slam open.

     "Lovi~!" I wasn't even given a chance to break into a sprint before someone (tomato bastard of course) tackled me into a hug, if you could call the rib crushing attack such a thing. "I knew you'd visit today~!" He cried squeezing me even harder before comparing me to a damn tomato.

     "You don't know jack-shit, asshole. Now let go of me!" I snarled trying to head butt him. "And don't call me a tomato!"

     When the bastard finally let me go – I mean when I overpowered him with my Italian badassery (shut up, it exists! Just ask the mafia!) I attempted to straighten out my crinkled clothing but was prevented once again when Spain somehow managed to lace his fingers through mine (no, I did not let him) and pull me towards the house.

     "Come inside, Lovi~! You're a little earlier than I thought you'd be, you missed Big Boss Spain didn't you." I replied with something to the effect of Vaffanculo but he either didn't hear or didn't give a shit. Probably the first, Spain was an oblivious bastard after all.

     "Oh well, it doesn't matter if you're early or not, mi precioso tomate! I made enough breakfast for both of us and …" I'm sure as anyone who knows Spain, knows that he just rambled from then on out about whatever random shit entered his brain, or whatever it is that serves as a brain (it's probably a tomato).

     I attempted to act disgusted with having to eat the breakfast that was all but shoved at me but that was difficult because I'll give that bastard one thing, he's a fantastic cook, almost Italian good. I'd never admit that of course, not even if I was being threatened with England's cooking. Bastard would only call me cute and try and hug me some more if I told him that. Oh, and let's get one thing straight right now: Lovino Romano Vargas. Is. Not. Cute. Not ever.

     …

     Glad we cleared that up.

     "I suppose it's not too bad - bastard." I managed to quickly add at the last second. For some unexplainable reason I had recently forgotten to insult Spain…I'm sure it's just because he's been acting like less of a dumbass recently. I looked over at the tomato bastard only to find him trying to communicate with one of his numerous turtles, I pretty sure the damn thing had been sitting on top of his head when he greeted-I mean mugged me at my car.

     Nope, he's just as much of a dumbass as usual…so did that mean I was going soft? Was I willingly being nicer to the bastard…

     HELL NO!

      Just for good measure I kicked the bastard as I made my way to the sink where I dumped my dishes for Spain to clean up before proceeding to the living room.

     "Oww, Lovi~! So mean to your poor boss." He whined, attempting once again to hug me, somehow managing to succeed (I did not let him I tell you!). "Why are you so mean, mi tomate?"

     I smacked him away when I saw him reaching for my curl. "Because you're a pervert, and don't call me Lovi, bastard!" I threatened before finally making my way unhindered to the living room leaving the bastard to cry on the floor, because yes, I was just that badass. I wasn't the country of the mafia for nothing.

     "Pomodoro Bastardo. What makes him think he can hug me whenever he wants?" I grouched. "He's lucky I don't feel like calling up the mafia but I swear if that bastard tries anything funny one more time, that pervert is – "

     "Is what, Romano?" I froze mid-step, halting in the door frame as my eyes landed on the speaker, who, for all accounts and purposes looked just like the bastard I'd left crying in the kitchen, pining after my hugs. The only difference was he was wearing the clothes he used to back in his pirate days and was smirking at me in a very non-Antonio sort of way. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was a flirty smirk, but that bastard knew better than to try that funny shit with me (unless he had been out drinking with those losers he calls friends and shows up drunk at my house).

     "What the Hell are you doing dressed like that, bastard? Or better yet, how did you have time to change into that and get here before me? I just left you in the kitchen, tomato bastard – "

     Spain, pirate garb and all, backed me up against the wall, blocking me from escape with an arm on either side of my head. If I wasn't so scared – indifferent, (I wasn't scared of anything, especially not this bastard) then I'd probably be more concerned with how close Spain was and how his smirk had turned more smug, if that was possible.

     "I swear, Spain, if this another one of those pranks that fuckface France and Potato bastard number two put you up to I will – "

     "You'll what, Roma?" He all but purred, leaning into me now. "Please tell me." He lisped in my ear causing heat to rise to my face no doubt making me turn the red of tomatoes. I was sure that any minute now Spain would drop this whole act and start cooing about how cute I was, and for once in my life I wished he would.

     "So beautiful, Roma." Spain whispered, his hand dropping from their place on the wall to rest just above my hips.

     "S-s-Spain!" I (did not) whimper. "W-what are you d-doing?" I'd never seen Antonio act like this, not even during his pirate days, not towards me at least. Then again I was practically a kid back then and no matter how much I teased the bastard about it Spain was not a pedophile, he was just a little too obsessed with cute things (not to say I'm cute in any way or ever was).

     "What does it look like, mi querido?" He purred, rolling the r in a way that made me shiver in d– in discomfort obviously! Mio Dio, what were you thinking, you perverts!

     It wasn't until he nibbled on the tip of my ear did I snap out of my daze and head butt his sorry ass away from me. Now usually when I head-butt Spain he backs off quickly and whines like the bitch he is about how mean I am but this time he just barely backed off and he looked pissed more than anything. Bearing this in mind, I ran for it. As a kid I'd never once been scared of Spain during his pirate days but right now I suddenly knew how the people facing his Armada must have felt. If I didn't get out of there fast he would hurt me…or do something weird again.

     "Stay away from me, bast-Spain!" I yelped as I heard him gaining on me. It probably wasn't a good idea to call the crazy Spaniard chasing you a bastard and us Italians were nothing if not excellent survivors.

     I'm not sure at what point I had started to run to my old room but no sooner had I started towards the flight of stairs did I run into something. Now, I'll admit I've always been clumsy and couldn't clean for shit because of it but I've never actually run headfirst into walls!

     I looked up into emerald eyes and immediately my heart froze. How had he managed to get in front of me? I attempted to turn back around and dart away again but arms like steel bars wrapped themselves around me and kept me held against an as equally unyielding chest.

     "Please, Spain! Let me go!" I begged (but if anyone ever told me that I'd…I'd…I'd have Feli stick the macho potato on them!) struggling vainly to break free. "I didn't mean to hit you, honest. I-It's just-you were being weird and – ."

     "Calm down, Italy Romano." He grumbled, loosen his grip slightly and holding me at a distance so that he could look me over. "Why are you running? Is France here? Or is it Turkey?"

     Once again my brain shut down as I took in not only the complete switch in personality (yet again) but the outfit change. Spain now looked like he did back in his Conquistador days, armor and all. His halberd was even strapped to his back.

     "Wh-What?" What was he talking about? I hadn't seen the Fuckface since the world meeting and although he had attempted to molest me, no more so than usual, Spain had politely warned him to stop; if a broken hand could be considered a polite warning that is.

      As for Turkey, I hadn't really seen that bastard in person for any extended period of time since he'd tried to kidnap me as a kid. I only ever saw Turkey in passing and even then it's not like he made any threats towards me. Then again Spain was always very close by whenever Turkey was around. I think that he might have had something to do with why the tomato bastard was chasing me around during the last meeting, but probably not.

     "Have they hurt you, Romano? Because I can assure you that once I deal with them they'll never bother you again." Spain promised. If I hadn't been in a state of panic I might have taken advantage of the offer and had Spain destroy that pervert he calls a friend; but as it was I was not in the right state of mind to care about ridding the world of the fuckface.

     "What no I – "

     "Ah, there you are, Roma." A voice purred behind me. "I was wondering where you had run off to, you always were the fast one." I attempted to turn around in Spain's arms; there was no way this was happening. I had to be hearing things.

      "Why don't you hand him over, España?" The arms around me tightened. "I promise to take real good care of mi Romanito." I shuddered, unsure whether to be afraid of that promise or creeped out.

     "No, Spain. You will not be allowed to corrupt my colony." Conquistador Spain snarled at his counterpart. I figured now was not the time to inform him of my current independent status or how I hadn't been his colony for centuries now.

      I looked nervously between the two of them; either I was having a nervous breakdown or this was one fucked up dream (no doubt thanks to Feliciano and his attempts to mix pasta with German food, which he would then test on me).

     "Hey, Lovi~!" My eyes grew impossibly wider. "What's going on out here? I heard all this noise and I thought maybe my cute little tomate had hurt himself, and - Oh." He grinned at not only me but his doppelgangers. "I see you found the others."

     "You mean you knew about them, tomato bastard!" I screeched, once again struggling to get out of España's hold (I was just going to refer to Conquistador Spain as España now, maybe that would reduce the possibility of my head imploding.) this time struggling so I could strangle that oblivious bastard who was still cooing about how damn cute I was what with my flushed face (I was not blushing! It just took a lot of effort to escape España's hold).

     "Well yeah, Lovi~! I woke up this morning and they were there." He replied as if such an occurrence was the most natural thing in the world.

     "And you didn't think something was wrong! You really are a dumbass!" I growled. "How did this even happen?"

      Pirate Spain seemed to have grown bored with the whole conversation and was once again attempting to get España to let go of me so he could resume 'playing with his little Roma', if I wasn't so creeped out by him and not being held captive at the moment I would have punched him in the face.

     "Well. I'm not sure, Lovi~." Spa-you know what, I'm going to just call him Antonio from now on (only in my head, of course, cause if I called the bastard by his human name he'd be so damn pleased he'd hug me until I couldn't breathe and there's no way I'd give him that satisfaction). Anyways, Antonio actually made to look like he was pondering over the dilemma (don't hurt yourself I wanted to tell him) before shrugging and returning to giving me goofy grins.

     "Okay. So let me get this straight. There are now three of you tomato bastards running around." I questioned.

     "That is correct." España responded before reprimanding me on my language. "I think so." Antonio muttered, "I haven't seen any others, but it's possible! How fun would that be Lovi!" I glared at him while assuring him that 'no, dammit, that would not be fun, you bastard.' "Come on, España, I just want to talk to my little Roma. He's grown up to be a real belleza. Please give him to me!" Spain continued to beg, still ignoring the current situation.

     "There are three of you. Great as if one tomato bastard wasn't enough." I mumbled. "Alright, well that's all I wanted to know." I then fainted-I mean passed out - really manly like, and, yeah. (Oh shut the fuck up! You'd have done the same thing in my situation…assholes.)


	3. Ch 2: Call Me Antonio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia in any way shape or form, Hidekaz Himaruya does.
> 
> Warning: Explicit language and BL (BoyXBoy).

* * *

     "What the hell happened?" I grumbled, trying to sit up. This proved to be a difficult task since the room was spinning more than a little. I managed it, however. The last thing I remembered was Spain…and there were three of him.

     Either the tomato's bastard's stupidity really is contagious and I've lost my mind, or it was all just a dream…probably the last one. It's not like I'm around Spain enough for his stupidity to have any sort of influence on me. (Shut the Hell up, I totally wasn't!)

     "Lovi~! You're awake!" Speaking of the bastard. Spain crushed me into a hug before I had even fully opened my eyes, his momentum knocking me back onto the bed with him landing on top.

     "Get off of me, you pervert!" I shrieked, struggling vainly underneath the Spanish bastard. In my colony days I believed Spain had only ever been able to overpower me because he was bigger than I was (not that he wasn't still-but not by much! He's only a few maybe five or so inches taller than me, dammit!) but the truth is the bastard was just strong.

     "But Lovi! You fainted; boss just wants to make sure you are alright!" He declared, still attempting to cuddle me despite the fact I was kicking and snarling. He was, of course, oblivious the whole time to how suggestive our position was.

     "You're not my boss anymore!" This earned a disappointed whine from him. "I thought I told you already, get away from me, bastard! You're smothering me!"

     He quickly pulled back, still leaning over top of me however, pinning me to my bed. "I'm sorry, Lovi! I didn't mean to hurt you, are you alright?" He hugged me again after searching me for injury and finding none.

     "Dammit, Spain! What did I – "

     "Call me, Antonio. Please, Lovi!" He looked down on me with pleading emerald eyes, and were I not immune to Spain's pouts I might have thought he looked cute like that – but I am immune, therefore he was not cute! He's never cute!

     He's a bastard!                         

     …

     So there!

     "What?" I hissed. "I'm not calling you that, bastard. Also, what'd I tell you about calling me Lovi?" I had finally managed to unpin one of my arms and was attempting to push him away.

     "But, Lovi! We've known each other for centuries!" He was pouting now. "Why can't you call me by my human name? I call you Lovino don't I?"

     "Spain!" I roared. "Let go of me! You're such a perverted bastard."

     "Lovi! You're avoiding the question. Please, call me Antonio." I yanked my other hand free and pushed him off of me, earning a whimper.

      "NO!" I tried to scramble off the bed and make a run for it but realized my efforts were futile when a hand snatched my ankle and pulled me back. "If I call you by your human name will you leave me alone!"

     "Maaaybe." He all but sang, hugging me once again, his weight resting entirely on my back and pressing me into the mattress.

     "Fine!" I turned to glare at him over my shoulder only to find him giving me an expectant look, much like a child on Christmas waiting to be given a present. "Let. Go. Of. Me. _Antonio_."

      I should have known better than to give in to the bastard's demands. As soon as his name had left my lips he squealed like a school girl and hugged me even tighter.

      "Oh! Mi Tomate! You're so cute!"

     "Am not, dammit!" I screamed, struggling again. "You said you'd let me go, now let go, Spain!" I felt him shake his head against my back.

     "I said maybe, besides, you didn't say please." The pout, even though I couldn't see it was obvious in his voice. "You also didn't use my name!" His arms tightened around my waist and he nestled his face into my back.

     I sighed in defeat. There was no way I was going to escape from this hug of doom until either I gave in to Ant-Spain's demands or if he got bored (or distracted by something shiny).

     "Listen here, Spa – "

     "I'm not sure what's going on here, but I want to be a part of it." A voice purred not too far from the bed I was being pressed into. Usually I would think such a perverted comment would have come from the fuckface that Antonio calls a friend, but I knew that bastard's creepy voice and that sure as Hell wasn't him.

     Much like early my entire body froze up as I slowly looked up into emerald eyes, identical to the ones the idiot hugging me right now possessed.

     "H-how! It was all a dream – you can't be real – this isn't happening – What did you do?" I snarled turning on the bastard currently nuzzling into my back. I'm not sure what actually caused this but you can be sure as hell I'd find a way to blame him for it.

     "Nothing, Lovi!" He mumbled. "I already told you I woke up and they were here…"He trailed off and my suspicions that he'd fallen asleep were confirmed when he pretty much slumped completely against me and started to snore.

      "Bastard." I muttered softly (What! If I woke him he'd only start saying stupid shit! It wasn't because I cared for that moron, cause I don't).

     "Yeah, not that this isn't touching, but I think you and I have yet to have that _conversation_ I've been wanting to have with you, Roma." Spain hummed, looking at me from underneath his eyelashes, his eyes half lidded. Once again, if I didn't know any better and _know_ that Spain would never pull any shit like that with me (because he raised me dammit, and there's no way he could ever feel that way towards me!) I would swear he was giving me bedroom eyes (not that I've ever really had any real experience in that – Wait! Why the Hell am I telling you this?).

     "Well, as you can see, Spain, I'm currently trapped so you're going to have to talk to me from way over there." I waved vaguely out into the hallway.

      He pouted for a few seconds before he seemed to get an idea (I know, sure sign of the Apocalypse). "I don't think so, mi querido." He sauntered fully into the room and over to the bed I was still being pinned to. He then snatched my upper arms and slowly but surely started to pull me out from under Antonio.

      I wanted to struggle but I knew if I did I'd wake Antonio (No, I don't care about Antonio, it's just – just – dammit – I don't have to justify myself to you!) he was already complaining in his sleep about his pillow moving and attempting to wrap his arms more tightly around my waist.

      Spain pulled me free and as soon as he did he spun me away from the bed and all but slammed me into the nearest wall, pinning me much like he had early. He smirked down at me as his hands came to rest on my hips, attempting to pull me flush against him (and I'll tell you now, that shit was not going down).

     "Let go of me, Spain!" I snarled, struggling now that such actions wouldn't wake a sleepy Spaniard; albeit quietly.

     "I don't think so, cariño." He growled lowly, pressing against me, preventing me from struggling anymore. "As I already said, I want to talk to my little Roma. I'm not a patient man, Romano, and I'm getting tired of waiting." He leaned impossibly closer, his lips brushing my ear. "Now tell me, Romanito, when did you grow up to be so beautiful, hmm?"

     "Cut it out, Spain!" I whined. "Stop playing around!" He glared at this, but I myself was too angry to really notice. "Seriously, this isn't funny, stop joking!" I attempted to struggle once more, briefly wondering about the third Spain, the conquistador Spain, and where he was when I needed him to keep the pervert at bay.

      Spain punched the wall by my ear, actually managing to create a hole in the plaster. (Shit! I forgot how strong the bastard was, especially during his pirating days.) Spain was glaring down at me with a fire that had never before been present when looking at me. It was the same fire he glared at eyebrow-bastard with whenever that damn Brit was purposefully saying something to irritate him.

     "I am not 'playing' as you call it, Roma." He snarled before snatching up my wrists and pinning them, one handed, above my head. "Not yet, at least." He purred before using his free hand to grab my chin and force me to face him as an entirely different fire entered his eyes, one that had also never been directed at me (as far as I was aware).

      "Now, listen here, querido. I'm sure that pansy-ass over there has been too much of a pussy to man up and take what's his, but I sure as Hell won't."

     "Take what's his?" When what he was saying sunk in, that was when I really started to get pissed off. "I'm not his, I don't belong to anyone!" I yelled, regardless of whether or not it would wake Antonio, Hell if that lazy bastard woke up he might actually be useful in helping me escape from Spain. "I most certainly don't belong to you!"

     "Not _yet_ , mi corazón." That was when his smirk morphed into this twisted grin, his eyes growing darker, almost black. He pressed fully against me again and it was only then that the full implications hit me and I went into full panic mode (So what if I'm a little slow! I blame Antonio; the inability to "read the atmosphere", as Japan calls it, is obviously contagious).

     I'm not sure what compelled me to do it, all I know was one second I was being pressed into the wall the next second I was shrieking at the top of my lungs for the only thing capable of saving me (and my vital regions).

     " **España**!"

     Not even seconds later the weight previously pinning me to the wall was gone, Spain was sprawled out on the floor, and I was being pulled into an embrace. España checked me over for injuries before turning on Spain.

     "I thought I told you to stay away from Romano." Spain just glared up at the Conquistador. Antonio, useless bastard that he is, was of course still asleep. (Bastard could probably sleep through an earthquake.)

     "Next time you lay a hand on my colony," (once again I thought it best not to correct him) ", regardless of whether we are the same country or not, I will disembowel you." I'd heard Antonio make threats before but they'd never been so graphically violent. "Do we have an understanding?" He snarled, advancing on his alternate self.

     Spain didn't say anything for a while, just glared up defiantly at España. He finally nodded, pushing himself up onto his feet. "He's just as much my colony as he is yours, España." He groused under his breath before exiting the room, hastily I might add as España, who must have heard him, sent him a nasty glare.

     España glared at his retreating back until he had vanished from sight. Once Spain had left España turned his attention back to me and for the second time that day thoroughly searched me for injury. Were it not for the fact I knew he was only concerned for my safety I would have been worried he was trying to molest me.

     As soon as España had finished his examination that lazy-ass tomato bastard had decided to wake up. How did I know this? Well first thing the bastard did was start to mumble something about "Lovi this" or "Lovi that" and once he fully opened his eyes he began to search the room. I wasn't sure for what until his eyes landed on me and he practically bolted across the room, somehow managing to yank me out of España's hold and into one of his very own.

     "Lovi! I just had the most wonderful dream about you and tomatoes and – "I quickly slapped my hand over his mouth; if there had been one thing I'd learn in all my years of living it's that Antonio's dreams were either pointless (he would ramble about the most obscure of shit) or they were perverted (he would then ramble about the most embarrassing of shit, almost France worthy…almost).

     "I don't want to know." I growled, keeping my hand firmly clamped over his mouth, well, that is until he decided to start kissing my palms, then I violently yanked my hands away, no doubt cursing colorfully enough to shame a sailor.

      "Dammit, Antonio – " I quickly covered my own mouth, realizing I had let his name slip (Not my fault! There were three of them, dammit, and there was no way I could keep them all separate without giving them different names!). To put it blatantly, his eyes lit up like that damn burger-bastard's Fourth of July. He then proceeded to hug me even tighter and nuzzle his face against mine all the while exclaiming how cute I am and how "happy you've made boss, Lovi!" Dammit, I could just kill myself for making that bastard so pleased.

     And what was España doing? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Seems like Antonio just isn't enough of a threat to my personal safety (or vital regions) for the conquistador to pry him off me. I'm sure however had I complained about not being able to breathe he would have treated Antonio the same way he'd treated Spain just moments earlier.

      "Let go of me, tomato bastard." I struggled, briefly wondering why he was still this strong if he had been divided into three. Instead of doing as I'd asked Antonio just gave me his signature dopey grin (damn thing is so bright I need a pair of sunglasses so as not to be blinded) and told me once again "Lovi~! Boss wants you to call him by his human name." Yeah like that would ever happen willingly (shut the hell up, earlier didn't count, I was distracted!).

     "Come on, Lovi! I made breakfast. It's probably cold by now, but I can make you something else if you want!" He finally released me from his hug but before I could properly escape (not sure where I'd go since Spain was probably still lurking around somewhere lying in wait for poor defenseless Italians to walk by) Antonio grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers through mine, and started to pull me out of the room, and assumedly, towards the kitchen. España followed us at his own pace, checking the corridors for wayward perverts.

* * *

     I headed to my old room, briefly wondering how the three tomato-bastards would decide sleeping arrangements before I remembered I didn't give a shit. Those bastards could do whatever the hell they wanted – as long as it didn't involve me!

     I decided to lock my door for the night, just to be safe. Now, before you start getting the wrong ideas about why I would willingly stay at Antonio's house when I proclaim to hate him the answer is simple: without me those idiots would end up killing each other…err….killing himself? … Dammit you know what I mean!

     Just because I was there so that they/he wouldn't die, doesn't mean I like that bastard or I'd be upset if he died! Cause I wouldn't.

      No, there are three reasons as to why I was staying here for not only the night but the foreseeable future, until this mess is sorted out. Then I'm heading back to Italy faster than you can say England. Those reasons are as follows:

     1.) Antonio's a dumbass and without me he might never figure out how to fix this problem.

     2.) Spain shouldn't be left alone because he'll either find some other poor defenseless nation to prey on or that Pirate-bastard will end up finding those assholes he calls friends and they'll end up causing troubles like they did in the old days; which someone (I mean me) will have to fix.

     3.) And most importantly, España wouldn't let me leave. Said I couldn't be where he couldn't protect me. Now before you start asking me: "But, Lovino. What about this Italian badassery you're always bragging about? Can't you just stand up to España?" First off: Shut the Hell up what do you know? And secondly: Italian badassery (which I have in abundance by the way) doesn't have a snowball's chance in Hell against borderline psychopathic Conquistadors.

     Now that I've made that clear, you know that I do not, not under any circumstances nor in any way, enjoy spending time at Antonio's (unless we're picking tomatoes)! I most definitely do not stay overnight (or the entire week) and sleep in my old room for old time's sake (or to be close to the bastard, whom I do not miss! Not ever!) if there's another option. So there!

     …

     You don't believe me?

     Yeah, well fuck you too!

     …

     Anyways, I was just stepping into some sleep pants (I was not going to sleep naked with, not one, but two perverts in the house…I don't think I can count España since he seems to think of me as if I were still a kid) when someone knocked on the door. Usually I would have opened the door knowing it was Antonio no doubt wanting to know if I would like to sleep in his bed like old times. I'd say no of course, excluding nights when there were thunderstorms (Not because I was scared! NO! Umm … because … because Antonio would be scared! And I-not that I care about him or anything, but – umm…never mind. You won't believe me no matter what I say).

     However, back on topic; I was wary about opening the door, because while it could be Antonio it could also be Spain. I highly doubted it was España. He had said something about patrolling the grounds before bed to see if France was lurking around, so he was probably still outside.

     If it was Antonio he would probably just ask what he usually does and since there's no thunderstorm tonight I'd send him packing. If it was Spain though I don't really want to think about what he'd ask me – forget asking, bastard probably wouldn't ask anyways he'd just do whatever weird thing it is he wants to do to me.

     I reluctantly headed towards the door, quickly pulling on a t-shirt, if it was Spain I didn't want that creep to get even more ideas. I suppose I was lucky that I always ended up leaving clothes here whenever I visit (not that anything happens you sickos, I'm just forgetful).

     "Who is it?" I stuttered. If it was Spain I would not open the door and should he try to get in anyways, I'd open one of the windows and climb out before locating España.

     "It's Antonio." I almost sighed with relief before remembering that the three tomato bastards sounded almost exactly alike, it could still be Spain.

     "Prove it, bastard." Hell, even I wasn't sure how he was going to be able to prove he was who he said he was.

     "How, Lovi?!" He whined, pawing at the door. "Umm…I don't have long hair?" He asked sounding hopeful that that was the right answer. I felt it best not to tell the dumbass that I couldn't see that through the door. "Uh…Um..Lovi! My brain is starting to hurt. Please open the door."

     I rolled my eyes. That was my dumbass alright. Oh, you know what I mean. No one but Antonio can act that stupid. Even in his pirating days he sounded smarter than he does now.

     "Fine, fine. I'll open the door." I groused. "So help me though if you're that pirate bastard I will call España up here faster than you can say churros. You got it, bastard?"

     " Sí, Lovi." He muttered meekly from the other side of the door. Even further proof. In his pirating days Spain was a cocky asshole who wouldn't know how to act meek if his life depended on it. Sure as hell wouldn’t use the word please, probably wouldn’t even know what it was.

     I slowly opened to door, peeking out to see if it really was Antonio. As he had said he didn't have long hair like that Pirate bastard did. No, just his regular bouncy chocolate colored curls…damn if that didn't sound gay.

     "Can I come inside, Lovi?" He asked, trying to step in anyways regardless of whether I gave him my permission or not.

     "No!" I growled, trying to push him back. He's just so damn strong though that as I tried to push him back he just kept walking and even though I braced my feet I was still slid back into my room. Antonio shut the door behind him.

      "What do you want, tomato-bastard?" I snarled crossing my arms. He just grinned down at me as I glared up at him. I had little doubt he was going to start spouting out some kind of shit about how cute I was.

      "I just wanted to know if I could sleep here tonight, Lovi." He asked petting my hair, skillfully avoiding my curl although Lord knows he wanted to pull it.

     "Why can't you just sleep in your room, bastard?" I grumbled trying to swat him hands away from my hair.

     "Well Pirate me took it and kicked me out of the room and Conquistador me took the couch. He said something about making sure Turkey couldn't sneak in through the front door, although I'm not sure why. Turkey already knows to stay far away from here, made sure of that myself." He grinned proudly. "Anyways, there's nowhere else for me to sleep so can I stay here?"

     "You live in a fucking mansion with a billion guest rooms so don't give me that shit about not having any other room to sleep in."

     "Well yeah. But no one ever stays here but you, Lovi, so none of the beds have sheets and most of the rooms haven't been cleaned since I had colonies. Plus I don't want to stay in those rooms. They're so lonely." He muttered the last bit to himself and for once I saw past Antonio's cheerful demeanor.

     I should have told him to piss off but there was just something so unnatural about see a sad Antonio that I couldn't do it. I mean it's not that I care or anything (Yes, you and I both know that's complete bullshit by now) but still he did raise me, and he's always been there to protect me. Also, he was the first one to ever prefer me over Feliciano…

     "Alright, you can stay." I mumbled, bowing my head to hide my blush. He would undoubtedly pull me into a hug after this.

     He surprised me by instead pressing a chaste kiss to my forehead. "Gracias, Lovi." He murmured against my forehead.

     "Don't mention it." I stuttered, backing away quickly and crawling into bed. He just stood there awkwardly, smiling at me from where he stood. "Well are you going to lay down or not, bastard?" I growled.

     "Oh, right!" He pulled his shirt off over his head before sliding under the covers. "Thanks again, Lovi." He grinned. "I hope you don't mind too terribly. I didn't want to bother you."

     "It's fine, An-bastard. Just don't expect this to happen again." I prayed he hadn't caught my near slip and rolled away to face the wall.

     "You almost called me Antonio," He cooed, slipping an arm around me and pulling me into a hug; which was awkward as Hell because now that tomato bastard was spooning me.

     Of course that usually oblivious bastard would have noticed the slip. "Did not! Now shut up, let me go, and go to sleep." I hissed, struggling vainly to get out of his arms.

      "Do I have to do that in that order?" He asked, curling up against me. His breath tickled the back of my neck as he yawned. "Can't I just let go after I wake up tomorrow?"

     I was going to tell him no, honest, but that asshat was already asleep by the time I had prepared a snarky reply.

     I sighed in defeat. "Goodnight, bast – " He was asleep, what could it hurt? "Goodnight… Antonio." Whether he was awake or not, I don't know, but he drew me closer until his cheek was nestled against my hair and he mumbled a soft "Night, Lovi."

     …

     What a bastard.


	4. Ch 3: France Never Learns

* * *

     Light streamed through the windows, straight into my eyes rousing me even further into waking. I tried to roll over away from the sun, but _someone_ was currently trapping me in my current spot.

     Now normally I would bitch at Antonio for not shutting his curtains before he went to sleep (shut up we don’t end up in the same bed as often as you’d like to think) and kick him off the bed until he shut the currents.

     Today, however, I couldn’t really complain about it because: a.) This was my room so technically it was my responsibility to shut the damn curtains and b.) The light and the damn birds chirping wasn’t what woke me up at such an ungodly hour.

       No, that would be Antonio’s doorbell; which, by the sound of it, wasn’t going to last much longer if the dumbass on the other side of the door didn’t quit beating on it.  It was much too early to be up; no one should be up this early. Proof of this was the Spaniard who still had me ensnared in his arms.

     I knew that eventually I’d have to deal with the outside world, but I hadn’t known it would be so soon. What damn nation could it possibly be? And how was I going to explain this? I glared back at the tomato bastard who was snuggling into my back.

     Okay, so if I were to think logically…shit. We’re all screwed.

     No, no, wait. Okay, so, I know that it wasn’t for me since Feliciano probably didn’t know I was here – Who the hell am I kidding? Feli always seems to know where I am. However, he never showed up whenever I was at Spain’s (unless something “traumatizing” had happened, like the potato bastard trying to make pasta). So that ruled out him. The only other person I had any sort of association with was…Antonio. (Damn if that’s not pathetic).

     But I was in Spain right now (not like that you damn perverts) and since Antonio wasn’t like me, the bastard pretty much shit rainbows and puked sunshine, people seemed to like him and it was perfectly reasonable that someone would visit the living ball of sunshine.

     The ones at the top of the list of who might visit Antonio being the rest of the BTT or the FAGs (Francis. Antonio. Gilbert) as I like to call them. So there was a high chance it was either potato bastard number two or the fuckface.

     However, there was also the possibility of Belgium who would visit Antonio from time to time; but only, it seemed, whenever I was over…odd. With Belgium was usually her brother the Netherlands (god he’s such a dick). I had no idea how I would lie to either of the two since I grew up around Belgium and she, much like Antonio, could tell when I was lying.

     There was also, God I don’t even want to think about her, Hungary. She would show up, make lewd comments about us, no doubt wondering what I was doing at Antonio’s house so early in the morning. Afterwards she would leave a trail of bloody tissues as she muttered to herself about yaoi and tsundere or whatever the Hell it is she calls me. Please, let it not be Hungary. I had little doubt Spain would all too willingly give in to her pervy demands and plow into me on the nearest flat surface.

     There were a few other nations since Antonio was such a friendly guy, but I could easily threaten them away. For some reasons other nations just don’t want to be around me, must be my winning personality.

     The only ones I had to worry about were Spain’s siblings, like Portugal, who would show up every once in a while to tell Spain what a complete asshole he was back in the day. Since both his Pirate and Conquistador self were present I didn’t think it was a good idea to let any interactions between the siblings happen. Otherwise all hell would break loose and we might be looking at another Spanish Empire. Then again, it had been a long time since I had since Portugal. A _long_ time; like colonial times long.

     The one nation I didn’t have to worry about was England. Hell, eyebrow bastard was probably responsible for all this. The more I think about it, the more likely it seemed.

     If I wasn’t so scared of him – his cooking I would invite him over just to kick his ass for all the trouble he’s put Ant– **me** through. I’ll have to hunt him down eventually and demand he fix this.

     There was one problem with England showing up. That problem being that Spain would instantly start to attack him for what he did to his Armada. Now I’m not sure how important England is to the economy, but I’m pretty sure it’d still be a really bad thing were Spain to kill him.

     Dammit to hell! The damn doorbell wouldn’t stop ringing and the person hadn’t gotten the hint to go away. If I didn’t answer the door soon either Spain or España would and there was no way I was letting that happen. So I did the only thing I could.

     I struggled to free myself. I had almost made it off the bed when Antonio yanked me back down into the bed and against his chest. “Dammit, A-Spain! Let me go. I have to go answer your fucking door!”

     “But, Lovi!” He whined, nuzzling his cheek against mine. “If we ignore them they’ll go away eventually; besides, it’s too early. I just want to go back to sleep and curl up with my cute little tomate.”

     “Get off me, Spain! I need to answer the door before one of your dumbass doppelgangers does!” I kicked his shins before rolling off the bed (like a complete badass; didn’t stumble once). I then darted into the hallway and down the stairs.

     God, it takes forever to get from my bedroom to the door. I just hoped whoever the hell it was didn’t bust down the damn door before I got there. I shot past Spain on the way to the door. I’m sure he was trying to purr something seductive at me but in my haste the get to the door I snarled a quick “I don’t have time” and left him behind, leaning on the door frame to Antonio’s room.

     “Shut the hell up! I’m almost there you impatient bastards!” I was almost to the door and I could hear not one, but two people on the other side of the door. Oh, god; anyone but those two.

     I reluctantly opened to door. Fortunately there was just one nation, he was on the phone. Unfortunately it was France, the worst of the BTT, and the one person I really didn’t want to see this early in the morning (well, at least it wasn’t Hungary). He quickly hung up on who I’m assuming was potato bastard number two in order to shoot me a wink.

      “Ah, mon petit. What are you doing at Antoine’s house so early in the morning, hmm?” He waggled his eyebrows in what I think was supposed to be a suggestive manner but made me want to slam the door in his face (then again, most things make me want to slam a door in France’s face).

     “As lovely as it is to see you, Romano,” His eyes raked down over my body as if mentally undressing me, bastard probably was. “, I have to ask you were Antoine is. I also see I have to congratulate him for finally getting a feisty piece of Italian like you in his bed.”

     “It’s not like that!” I hissed, flattening down my bed head, which I supposed could arguable be confused for sex hair. “I just woke up, dammit.”

     “Honhonhon”

       “Shut the fuck up! I just told you it’s not like that! Besides, Spain isn’t even here right now, dammit!”

     “What?” I should have been worried about the way France’s eyes lit up, but I was too concerned about getting him to leave. I tried shutting the door on him, but he had his foot firmly in the way. He stepped fully into the house. “Antoine isn’t here right now?’

      “That’s what I just fucking said, isn’t it?” I hissed, backing away from him. Why did I suddenly fear for my vital regions?

     “Well, since mon ami Antoine has not made a move for you I suppose someone has to.” Wait, what!?  “Toni may be one of my best friends, but there’s no way I’m letting a treasure like you slip away. After all, it’s not like he has some sort of claim on you.” He backed me up, walking further and further into the house.

     “I’ve stayed away out of respect for Antoine, hoping he’d finally wise up, but I see that’s never going to happen.” With that he pinned me against the wall. Dammit, I’m getting sick of being pinned like this! “So I’m just going to have to claim you for myself.”

     “NO!” I kicked and flailed and did just about everything I could to get away from the pervert who was trying to press kisses to my neck. “France let go of me! Antonio is going to kill you when he finds out!”

     “Ah, but Antoine isn’t here right now and as I’ve already said, he’s never going to claim you for his own and I’m sick of avoiding you just on the off chance Toni will go psychotic in his jealousy.” He tried to force a knee between my legs.

     “France, I mean it let me go!” I whimpered (you would too if you had a French pervert molesting you against a wall). “I swear if you don’t let go, I’ll – .”

      “France. Get your hands off my henchman. _Now_.” France and I simultaneously looked to see España standing in the hallway, war axe gleaming proudly from over his shoulder. “Friend or no. I. Will. Kill. You.”

     I thanked the heavens above that yesterday at dinner I had managed to convince him and Spain to wear more modern clothes; I really didn’t feel like explaining to France why Antonio was wearing his old Conquistador armor. I suppose it was a good thing Spain hadn’t come to investigate the noise. That bastard had refused to cut his hair and there would be no way I’d be able to explain that (I’d even sunk so low as batting my damn eyelashes at him and though his eyes had glazed over and he looked seconds away from pouncing on me, he’d still refused to cut his hair).

     France suddenly dropped me to the floor. No sooner had I landed did España all but pick me up and pull me into an embrace; checking me over for injury. “What did you think you were doing, France?” España growled lowly.

     “Romano and I were just playing around. Isn’t that right Romano? I would never do anything like that with Romano after all I know he’s your –.”

     “He tried to rape me.” I snarled. España’s eyes narrowed into daggers. He pushed me behind him as he hefted his war axe and embedded it in the wall were France’s head had been moments prior. The cowardly nation had instead opted to hide behind the front door (a wise decision).

     “France, do you remember what I told you when it comes to my Romano? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve told you over and over again.”

      “You told me never to touch him! And I swear Antoine I wasn’t – I would never! I know that Romano is yours. He – uh – he – umm – the thing is – It’s all a big misunderstanding. Oui? I wouldn’t dare to try anything with –.” He paused, giving España a weird look.

     “Wait…” Oh shit. “Did you just call him… _Romano_?” Dammit to Hell. “You never call him Romano…is something wrong, Antoine?” Fuck!

     I was hoping he wouldn’t notice, son of a bitch. Antonio hasn’t called me Romano since I was his colony, and as his best friend France would know that.

      France stepped out from behind the door (a stupid move in my expert opinion on dealing with psycho axe-wielders). España made a move to free his axe from the wall. “Romano, what’s going on?” Dammit! How was I going to explain this?!

      “Umm…well you see. Uh Spain hit his head, I’m not sure how, he’s such a dumbass, and now he  thinks he’s – uh – he thinks he’s a conquistador again.” That had to be one of my worst lies ever. España was giving me a disapproving look, the same kind of look he would give me back when I was a colony and he had caught me in a lie.

     France was quiet for the longest time and I was sure I was found out, but the fuckface just gave España a once over. “He _is_ acting like he did back then.” France muttered thoughtfully. “How long has he been like this?”

       I just shrugged. “He was like this when I showed up.” I twitched nervously, trying to step out from behind España. Obviously that was not permitted and España pulled me back into a protective hold.

     “That doesn’t not explain why you are here though, mon petit.” España growled at the nickname, sending France back behind the door.

     “He still thinks I’m his colony.” I grumbled. “Bastard won’t let me leave.” I ignored España as he scolded me for my language. “I’m sure he’ll remember soon enough and be back to his normal obnoxiously happy self, but I’m stuck here until then.”

     “If you want, Romano, I can come help dear Antoine remember.” Great, just what I needed. Three perverts in the house.

      “Yeah, no thanks. Besides, I can’t trust you to keep your hands to yourself and Spain will kill you if you don’t.”

      “Aww. You care for my safety, Romano!”

      “Hell no! I just don’t want to have to clean up the blood. Now get out of here! I’ll send the tomato bastard to see you and that albino potato you call a friend after he’s back to normal. Don’t you dare tell anyone though! It’s bad enough I have to deal with Spain, I don’t need to deal with more dumbass nations!”

    “But, Romano. I can _help_.” France purred. He really is a dumbass. España seemed to think so to since he ripped his axe from the wall and started to swing it towards him. “Right, well I’ll just leave you two alone! Au revoir!” With that France ran for his life, right out of the house slamming the door behind him.

     España glared at the door as if expecting France to come back through it and try and steal my vir – um…my…never mind.

      I looked between him and the hole in the wall. “There is no way in hell I am fixing that.” I quickly left the room and headed towards the kitchen. If I was going to be up this early I might as well get breakfast out of it.

      When I entered to kitchen I wasn’t surprised to find Antonio already there at the stove, making what looked to be an omelet stuffed with tomatoes. I was however surprised to find Spain sitting docilely on the counter watching. All the same, even though Spain didn't look like he was going to jump up and molest me I was still a little uneasy after what happened with France so I gave the pirate a wide berth. Even so, I never knew it was possible to be so thoroughly violated just by sight; I’m actually surprised I don’t have a limp right now. I’m more surprised that with that amount of concentration Spain hadn’t actually managed to strip me with his mind alone.

     “Who was at the door, Lovi?” Antonio asked as I stood close to him - not because I wanted to! I just hoped that would deter Spain from attempting to actually molest me (I could still feel his heated gaze on my ass though).

      “Just France. That fuckface tried to rape me. As usual.” I grumbled, shifting closer to Antonio. Spain snarled and Antonio stiffened beside me.

      Antonio’s eyes darkened with anger, but unlike usual he was missing that psychotic gleam. “I’ve told him countless time to stay away from my precious tomate.” He rumbled.

     Just as quickly the anger was gone and he gave me a happy grin. “Well your omelet is done, Lovi.” He scooped said omelet out of the pan, onto a plate, and handed it to me. He pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek as I turned to sit at the table.

      The bastard went back to cooking, completely ignoring my angry sputtering and the way my face was rapidly changing to resemble a tomato. Before I had a chance to curse or yell at him however Spain started whining

      “Hey! How come he’s allowed to kiss you and I’m not!” He actually stuck his lower lips out and pouted. It should have looked ridiculous on a grown man, but Spain even back when he was just one person, had always managed to effectively use those damn puppy eyes.

      “Because you’re a pervert!” I snarled at him, trying to wipe off the kiss with the back of my hand. “Besides, I did not let him kiss me! Tomato-bastard always does things like this.” I slammed my plate down on the table.

     I didn’t hear Spain until he captured my chin in between his thumb and forefinger and forced me to face him. Should have known he’d try to steal a kiss anyways, he’s a damn pirate after all. I scrunched my eyes up; knowing what would happen next was unavoidable.

     I flinched when a soft pair of lips pressed against my cheek, the one Antonio hadn’t kissed. He lingered a little longer than Antonio had, but I can’t really complain since I honestly thought he was going to try and capture my lips instead (Also, he only groped me once, which was an improvement for the pirate).

     Spain pulled away, ran his fingers through my hair, and gave me a soft grin before he sauntered out of the room; a smug bounce in his step. Don’t ask me how steps can be smug. If anyone can do it that pirate bastard can. I shrugged the weird incident off and sat down to eat my omelet. Antonio joined me when he was done cooking his own.

     One moment I think I understand these bastards and the next they do something completely unexpected. How am I going to survive?


	5. Ch 4: Tomato Harvesting

* * *

     As I’ve said before, I just really hate to admit it, but that bastard knows his way around the kitchen. I was still leaning back in contentment at the table when Antonio asked me if I wanted to help him out back with tomato garden.

      Now usually I automatically tell Antonio ‘Hell no!’ whenever he asks for help, but I enjoy working with tomatoes almost as much as he does. So I’d mumbled an agreement as if I was put out by the idea. All the same I had changed into work clothes, located a pair of gloves, and was in the backyard, ready before Antonio even showed up.

     The tomato bastard as usual was slow and I was left to wait shifting from foot to foot as he gathered up baskets and attempted to find his own gloves and his hat. I was about to go in and find the baskets for him when he came onto the porch and dropped a hat onto my head.

      I reluctantly grumbled a quiet thanks and set the hat more firmly on my head. I snatched one of the baskets from him and headed into the fields. I’ve always loved these tomato fields, even during my colony days; working in these fields was just about the only thing I was good for since I was too clumsy to clean. It was also the only thing I would willingly help the tomato bastard with. It was part of the main reason why I would ever force myself to visit the tomato bastard.

     The fields were huge and I’m sure were it not for the fact his freaking mansion was just as big you would have been able to see them from the front of the house. They stretched almost to the horizon (okay, maybe I was exaggerating but they were still pretty impressive) and even though that seemed like a lot of work, I didn’t mind.

       It was still early morning, thanks to that damn fuckface, so the sun was still low and the sky was a pinkish-blue. My mouth actually watered at the sight of all those tomatoes that were shiny with morning dew.

     I could hear Antonio chuckle behind me, but I ignored him in favor of drooling over the red fruits just waiting to be picked. That bastard pinched one of my cheeks (the ones on my face, you perverts) as he passed me, interrupting me from my staring.

      “Aww, mi Lovinito is so cute.” He cooed. God how I wanted to punch him in the face. “If you want you can eat one of them now, Lovi.” He stepped into the field, crouched down and picked one of the tomatoes off the vine before presenting it to me. “Here, Lovi, you can have the first one. Well, not the very first one. I was picking some of them yesterday and I did eat some. I cooked dinner with some of them last night. Oh, I also used them in the omelet this morning. But, you get the first one I picked today!” He continued to offer the tomato to me as he rambled until I finally took it and told him to ‘shut the hell up, bastard. I get it’.

     I bit into the soft skin and tried not to moan as the tangy flavor assaulted my taste buds. God, it was _so_ good. I’m not sure how he does it, but Antonio grows some of the best tomatoes I’ve ever had. Even my garden back in Italy doesn’t yield tomatoes as delicious as these. I always take the opportunity to mooch tomatoes off Antonio, even if it means burying my pride and letting him call me cute without (much) retaliation.

     I could feel some of the tomato juice escape and roll down my chin. Before I could catch it Antonio swiped his thumb under my lips and gathered it himself. I was sure I turned all sorts of shades of red when he popped his thumb briefly in his mouth to lick off the tomato juice.

     “Eww! Bastard, that could have been in my mouth!” I yelled, wanting to shove him, but not wanting to waste what was left of my tomato.

      “What’s the matter, Lovi? I’ve eaten after you before.” He cocked his head to the side in that ador– _annoying_ way he does when he’s confused.

      “Have not!” I spluttered in quick denial. His answering smile pissed me off. “Like I would ever let an obnoxious tomato bastard like you eat after – ”

     I cut off with a startled yelp as he snatched up my wrist and pulled the tomato, _my_ tomato, to his mouth and took a bite out of it. I think my brain clocked out for a few moments as I stared at the bite missing from my tomato, my wrist still clamped firmly in Antonio’s work calloused hand. My eyes slowly drifted up to stare at Antonio, who was happily chewing his stolen bite of tomato, completely ignoring my state of shock.

      “What the hell, Antonio?!” I shrieked, trying to pry my wrist free. He nearly choked on the remains of the tomato. “Did you seriously just steal part of my tomato?! You’ve got a whole field full of them; get one for yoursel – why are you grinning at me? What!? No, back off, you bastard!”

     He used his grip on my wrist to yank me into a hug, almost pulling me off my feet (my toes barely brushed the ground). I’m sure I would be mad at him for hugging me so randomly, but I was too busy being furious at him for making me drop what was left of my tomato.

      “Hey, asshat! You made me drop my tomato.” He ignored me in favor of nuzzling the top of my head. “Are you even listening to me? Let go!”

      “You said my name again, Lovi~!” He squealed (God, could he act any more like a teenage girl). Dammit to hell! I hadn’t even noticed. Why did I ever call him by his name in the first place? “Aww, Lovi~, you’re so cute.”

       “Don't you use those damn squiggles on me, bastard!” I pushed against him, tempted to just call España and tell him Antonio was molesting me (Dammit, I really need to stop thinking of him by his human name). It was doubtable España would believe me though; he knew Anton-the tomato bastard, wouldn’t do anything inappropriate to me (at least not intentionally).

      “You brought me out here to help you pick tomatoes, not to suffocate me! Now, get off of me!” Antonio gave me another squeeze before slowly letting me back onto my own two feet.

     “Finally. Now let’s go pick those tomatoes.” I grumbled, quickly stalking off into the field, making sure that when he followed I moved to the other side of the field. This of course resulted in a pout from Anto-Tomato Bastard (Son of a Bitch, when did he become Antonio and not the tomato bastard?) .

     “Hey, Lovi?” I looked up at him and though he was smiling (as usual) it was a sad thing and his lower lip stuck out just slightly.

        I sighed exasperatedly “What, bastard?” I growled, as I looked back to the tomatoes I was picking just so I wouldn’t have to see that depressing smile.

       “Do you really…hate me?” I nearly dropped the basket I’d been using to carr the harvested tomatoes. I quickly looked back up at him. His forced smile was gone replaced by an anxious frown, biting on his lower lip. His eyes were what got me though. I didn’t even know that cheerful Spaniard could look so angsty. Dammit, why could he get me to do just about anything if he looked depressed enough?

      I groaned, setting down the basket, and straightening up. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to think of what to say to him. “Look, I don’t…I don’t _hate_ you, bast- ” I sighed. “I don’t hate you, Antonio. So stop looking so sad. It’s pissing me off.”

       His face instantly lit up. “Good! I wouldn’t want my little tomate to hate me,” He looked as if he was about to dart across the field to hug me (again), but I quickly warned him about the damage he could cause the tomatoes (Antonio was always, as he said, ‘protective of the innocent tomatoes’; I’m not sure why he always winked at me while he said it…bastard). “, especially since I love my little tomato so much.”

     Forget protecting the tomatoes. I picked the top one out of the basket and threw it at him. Of course, since he’s used to me and my temper, he dodged out of way before impact. “Bastard! Don’t just say things like that.” I could feel my face heat up and I was no doubt the same color as the tomatoes in my basket. I know he didn’t mean anything by it; Antonio loves just about everyone (excluding England, Turkey, and sometimes Netherlands). Still, that bastard needed to learn he can’t just spout out shit like that.

        “Aww, but it’s true, Lovi~! Come give boss a hug.” He held his arms out towards me. Yeah, bastard, you know me better than that, that’s never going to happen voluntarily.

     “Fuck no!” I snarled, backing away from him, careful not to step on the tomato plants behind me. “Look, we came out here to pick tomatoes, so stop molesting me, and get back to work.”

     I expected him to pout, Hell, I kind of wanted him to be upset (just a little though). I did not however expect the bright smile. “Sure thing, Lovi!” He then turned away from me, and went back to his damn plants.

       What?!

     It’s that easy?

      Why in the Hell did that bastard obey so quickly? He never does what I tell him to do. He’s a stubborn bastard no matter how nice he is –

      Oh…

     Spain is the stubborn one. I suppose with him no longer being a part of Antonio the tomato bastard _would_ act differently.

     I glared at said tomato bastard for a few seconds. Dammit, now I felt like he was ignoring me. Wait…wasn’t that a good thing? If he ignored me, he wouldn’t hug me anymore.

       Finally! This was the best day of my life. Now if only I could get Spain to stop trying to conquer my vital regions.

* * *

 

     “Lovi?” I grumbled in acknowledgment. “What _did_ happen this morning with Francis?” I heard a snarl from the porch at the question and wasn’t too surprised to see España leaning against one of the guardrails keeping a close eye on me and the tomato garden. I didn’t see Spain but he was probably off doing whatever it is perverts do when an angry halberd-wielding Conquistador is keeping them from their prey.

     “Well…umm. I told him you weren’t here so he’d go away, but as soon as he heard I was here alone that fuckface tried to take advantage of me. He pinned me to the wall started talking crazy shit about how you hadn’t ‘claimed’ me and since you weren’t going to make a move someone had to; whatever the hell that means. It wasn’t long after when España walked in and threatened to kill him with that old war axe of yours,” I muttered.

      Antonio, much like when he’d first heard of the incident looked pissed, though not the ‘find-war-axe-hunt-down-France-maim-and/or-horribly-injure-him’ kind of psychotic rage that I was used to. I suppose that also had to do with the whole being split into three people.

     All the talk about France must have made España more cautious than usual, because he slung Antonio’s war axe (previously leaning next to him on the guardrail) over his shoulder and went off to ‘search the perimeter’.

     España distracted me just long enough for Antonio to sneak up behind me and wind me into a warm hug, burying his forehead into my hair. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you, Lovi.” He whispered, arms wrapping more tightly around my shoulders as he nuzzled the back of my head. “At least España was there. I would hate to think what would happen, what I would do, if someone hurt my Lovi.”

     A shudder ran up my spine as he placed a gentle kiss on the back of my neck. Dammit, Antonio, do you even realize what this must look like? I know you don’t mean it that way. You’re too damn oblivious to mean it that way, but still.

     The soft admission of worry had me feeling too guilty to just shove him away like I usually do when he initiates these embraces, so instead I just patted his arm awkwardly. “I’m fine, bastard. Don’t get so emotional. Come on, we still have a fourth of the field left to pick through and I’d like to get this done before I miss my siesta.”

      He let go to ruffle my hair and plant a kiss on my cheek. Seriously, Antonio!? I was going to have to stop this. “Alright, let’s hurry then, Lovi~!”

      I nodded determinedly and resumed picking the tomatoes, slowly but surely making our way through the field; placing filled baskets on the porch before retrieving new ones. I had just finished up the last row and was bending over to pick one I had missed when someone grabbed a handful of my ass. France had done this before, many times actually, each time resulting in major injuries and expensive hospital bills (thank you, Antonio), but I’d been groped enough by him to know that this was not that wine loving bastard.

     I quickly jumped away from the still groping hand and wheeled around to glare at them. I whipped the hat of my head and used it to cover my ass just to be safe.

       “What the fuck, Spain?” I tried to sound intimidating but I’m sure I sounded surprised still. I had squeaked after he’d groped me. Fucking squeaked! Son of a bitch, how unmanly is that!

     “I’m sorry, Roma. No wait. I’m not sorry. You have such a perky little ass, mi cariño. How could I resist?” He hooked his fingers through my belt-loops and pulled me close again, no doubt trying to get in another squeeze, but I held that damn sun hat firmly in place over my ass.

      When the groping didn’t go as he planned he decided to improvise and used his hold on my belt-loops to press his hips against mine. I really need to invest in a rape whistle.

       Wait, España was around here somewhere. All I had to do was call out to him and Spain would leave me the fuck alone. “Spain, I swear I’m going to call España to beat your pirate ass if you don’t leave me alone.”

     Spain glared and looked as if he was going to let go when a smirk spread across his lips. Oh God, what was he up to? I didn’t trust the mischievous smirk.

      He slapped a hand over my mouth and as I was trying to pull his hand away (dropping my hat) he slid the other hand around to rest just above my ass. “Roma,” I glared at his soft tone “, mi querido.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “Did France hurt you this morning?”

       I had just been about ready to drive my knee up into his crotch when what he was asking registered. I must have been giving him a wide eyed look of confusion.

      “If he did, I swear I will go hunt him down for you.” The hand I had been worried about groping my ass slid up to rest on my upper back. The hand covering my mouth moved to stroke the side of my face before sliding down to join in on this fucked up embrace.

      I probably should have yelled for España now that my mouth wasn’t covered, but I was too busy staring at Spain like he’d grown a second head. He was acting more like Antonio than the pervert I thought Spain was. On the other hand, he looked more serious than Antonio did or ever could be. Excluding all the groping this would have been the way Antonio would react (threats and all) before he was divided into three.

      “I-I’m fine, Spain.” He smirked down at me again, though the smirk was softer, less smug than all his previous smirks. “Now, if you could, please, get your fucking hands off of me.” I started to jerk around no doubt ruining whatever gentler mood Spain had been in.

      Spain grumbled under his breath before letting out an exasperate sigh. “I’m _trying_ to be nice, Roma. I thought you would like me better if I was less of a ‘bastard’ as you so call me.” He all but dropped me out of his arms (I almost tripped over the basket still at my feet). He then stormed out of the field and into the house, snarling violently to himself, slipping into Spanish rants every once in a while.

      “Antonio, did you see that? Why the Hell didn’t you, help…me…” I twisted around trying to find the tomato bastard only to find I was the only one in the fields. “Where the hell did he go?”

       “Hey, Lovi~!” I jerked around, my back popping at the swiftness of the turn, to see Antonio waving at me like the dumbass he is from the porch. “I made lunch, come inside.” Dammit, he must have left sometime before Spain showed up. How had I not noticed? More importantly why hadn’t he told me where he was going?

      “Alright, give me a minute, bastard.” I scooped up the last of my baskets and set the overflowing basket next to all the others on the porch for Antonio to deal with later. I then headed inside. Antonio already had lunch set up at the table (set for four) and was sitting opposite my chair, waiting patiently for me to sit down before he started eating. I slipped the work gloves off my hands and washed up as well as I could in the sink before joining him at the table. España joined us a couple minutes later. Spain never showed up, however. Asshole was probably sulking in Antonio’s room. Oh well, he’d show up sooner or later to molest me again.


	6. Ch 5: Conquistador Cuddles

* * *

     What the Hell is that sound? I tilted my head to the side as if that would help me hear better. There was a faint sound coming from upstairs. It kind of sounded like –

      Shit! My cell phone!

      I leapt off the couch, disregarding Antonio’s whine to “come back, I thought you liked this show”, as I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time (would have been three but my damn legs are too short). I had to get to my phone before one of the damn tomato bastards did. I doubted that either Spain or España actually know what a cell phone is much less how to answer one, but I’d rather not take the risk.

      I skidded to a halt, sliding into my bedroom, nearly tripping over the rug, in my mad dash towards the nightstand. As usual I banged my knee into the fucking bed frame. I snatched up the phone, surprised I didn’t break it with just how hard I grabbed it.

      “What the Fuck do you want!?” I snarled into the phone. I probably should have looked to see who it was before answering the phone like that. Shit, I should have known who it would be since the only ones who actually care enough (or are forced to) call me are Antonio (who is currently downstairs), Antonio’s bastard friends (who only call when all _three_ of them are drunk off their asses; as I said Antonio is downstairs), my boss (who only calls on week days; it’s Saturday), and my dumbass of a brother.

      I cringed as said dumbass on the other end of the line started crying. Son of a bitch! I hate it when Feliciano cries. It’s not that I feel bad for yelling at him (Because I don’t, dammit!), it’s because it’s really fucking annoying. I could already feel the headache coming. I seriously just need to start carrying painkillers around with me just for whenever Feliciano calls.  “Will you shut up, Feli?! Dammit, I didn’t mean to yell.” He just cried harder. I rubbed at my temple hoping that would relieve some of the pain. “Did you hear me? I didn’t mean it. Look, I’m sorry, now just tell me why you called.”

      He started to sniffle and I was glad he couldn’t see me roll my eyes. I nearly sighed with relief when his sobbing subsided. “S-Sorry, Lovi. I-I just – I just wanted to k-know where you were.”

      “Quit stuttering.” I snapped. “It’s none of you damn business where I am. Why do you even want to know? Aren’t you staying with that damn potato bastard?” If I ever have the opportunity to make that macho potato ‘disappear’ you can guarantee I will. Perhaps if I could convince España that that wurst-sucker assaulted me I could get him to hunt the bastard down. Yeah, I think I might do that. That’s what he gets for corrupting my innocent little brother. “Never mind, dammit, why are you calling me?”

     “Mi dispiace, Lovi.” He whimpered. “It’s just, I came to visit you – because I haven’t seen you since the World Meeting, and I missed you, ve~, and I told Luddy that I was going to go visit you and he told me to be careful, so I told him I would, and so I hugged him goodbye and he turned all pink and then I started to go back to my house, but then I forgot you don’t live there anymore, but then I remembered where your new house was and so I went to visit you there! Ve, when I got there I looked all over the house, I even looked in your gardens, even though you said I’m not allowed in there without you – Oh! I’m sorry, fratello! I didn’t mean to go in there, but I thought you might be there, but then you _weren’t_ there! I was so worried and so I looked around your house again to make sure you weren’t there before I called Luddy, because he told me not to call him about stupid things anymore, but this was important, but then I noticed that your car wasn’t in the garage - Oh, sorry, I forgot I’m not allowed in the garage without you either, ve! So I called up Luddy anyways and I told him you’d gone missing and asked him if he knew where you were! Ve, he said he didn’t know and that he thought he told me not to call him about stupid things like this, and then he told me to call you, so I did!”

     …

     What. The. Fuck.

     I think my head just exploded. Only Feliciano could make a simple explanation so damn long and irritating – and did he seriously just call the potato bastard, Luddy?  Whatever, forget that. I suppose Feliciano’s ramble was partially my fault; I should have known not to ask him such an open question.

      “Alright, bastard, I get it.” Yeah, I was most definitely getting a migraine; at least Antonio always had painkillers hiding somewhere in the house. “Dammit, I just asked why you called, I didn’t ask for an entire back story – and I thought I told you to stay away from that macho potato!”

     “But, Lovi – .”

     “No!” I snarled as I thought of all the violent things I could get España to do to that damn potato. “Why did you visit me? And don’t give me that ‘you missed me’ bullshit. You’re with the potato bastard so much anymore that we don’t see each other for months at a time. The World Meeting wasn’t even a week ago!”

       “That’s not true, Lovi! And I do to miss you! I wanted to make some pasta for you and – “ I tuned him out at this time knowing that he would continue to rambling whether I listened or not. Dammit, that whole pasta thing was making me feel guilty though. It’s not Feli’s fault he’s such a dumbass, and maybe he did actually miss me for once. It’s _doubtful_ since all he seems to be able to think about is the macho potato, but it is _possible_ (…Yeah, I’m not buying it either).

      “Okay, the truth now, Feliciano. Why are you calling?”

      I knew I’d got him when the other end of the line went silent. “Well, I – I did want to visit you Lovi, but when I saw you weren’t home I knew there was only one other place you could be.”

      “And that would be?”

     “Big brother Toni’s house, of course. But I wanted to make sure since you don’t like it when I call you on Toni’s house phone. You don’t like it at all when I call you while you’re over there, so I called your cell phone instead just to make sure you were there so I’d know not to call you there again – you _are_ at Big brother Toni’s house aren’t you?”

       “That’s none of your damn business! Also, I told you not to call that bastard that. He is not our big brother, dammit!”

      “Well of course he’s not, Lovi.” Damn straight. “He’s like _my_ big brother.” What? I’m his only big brother! “He’s something different for you, isn’t he, Lovi?” I cringed at the singsong tone to his voice.

      “What the fuck are you getting at!?”

      “I’m just saying, you _love_ big brother Toni.” Dammit, I forgot how nosy Feliciano was (Not that he knew jack shit right now though! He was just making shit up), I could practically feel the smirk in his voice.

      “I do _not_ love that tomato bastard!” I yelled at him. “He is a perverted bastard and I hope he burns in hell!”

      “If you really wished that, Lovi, then why do you visit, Toni so much? Hmm?” I struggled to find an answer. He responded to my silence with this sickeningly sweet giggle. “How long have you been at big brother Toni’s house, Lovi? Oh! Did he finally make a move! I was hoping he would! Me and Japan and Hungary were making bets about when he would finally confess. Well, Miss Hungary was making bets about when he would ‘screw you into next Tuesday’, I’m not sure what she meant by that. Aww, did you tell him you loved him too!? I’m so happy for you, Lovi!”

       “Oh my _God_ , Feliciano, shut the fuck up! Nothing like that happened. As I told you I don’t love Antonio; _and_ , it’s not of your damn business how long I’ve been at his house!” I realized what I’d said too late. Shit, Hungary would have a field day when Feliciano told her, I could no doubt expect that crazy bitch to try and break the doors down, video cameras and bloody tissues in tow, within the hour.

      “Oooooh, you called him _Antonio_!” He giggled again. “That’s so cute, Lovi. Do you have any pet names for big brother Antonio yet?” He ignored my snarls and continued to gush. “So you admit you are staying at his house. How long _have_ you been there Lovi? Are you two sharing the same bed yet? Luddy and I share the same – “

       “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, stronzo! And we’re only sharing the same bed because – Son of a bitch!” Shit! What did I say that?! “Every place else is taken!” Dammit, I am not helping myself. “Mind your own fucking business, Feliciano!”

       “Oh, I’m sorry, Lovi. I shouldn’t bug you about your _fucking_ business.” I think the world just shattered. My innocent little fratello, just dropped the f-bomb. “Or should I call it yours and _Antonio’s_ fucking business.” Did he really just say that? My baby brother has been turned into a pervert.

     “Feliciano Veneziano Vargas! What the Hell did you just say!? Do you even know what you just said?! What did I tell you about staying away from France! I don’t care if you do think he’s your older brother, you tell that potato bastard of yours to keep that fuckface away from you. That’s about the only thing macho potatoes are good for. And another thing, Ant-that tomato bastard and I are not fuc-we’re not doing _that_. Dios, even if we were why the Hell would I tell you – dammit, just shut up!” I screeched at the phone, tempted to throw it out the window. Knowing my luck Spain would find it and tell my brother in detail what he plans to do to me, which would only encourage this sick fascination Feliciano has with setting me and the tomato bastard up.

      “If you say one more word about this – to _anyone_ – and yes, that includes that bastard you live with, then I will kick your ass. You got that, fratello?”

     “S-Sí, Lovi. I was just – I was just teasing you. I didn’t mean to upset you about this or anything I just thought – “

      “I am _not_ upset!”

     “Of course not!” He replied quickly, sounding as if he was going to have a panic attack any second now. “I just meant – I didn’t mean anything by it, fratello, I just – I just – .” He started to sob again. Dammit, I just couldn’t win today.

       “Look, Feli, it’s fine, I’m not angry. I – just stop trying to force this. I don’t feel anything for-for Antonio,” I could hear him snort but ignored it. “, and that idiot doesn’t feel anything for me,” There was another, louder, amused snort from my brother. “, we’re just friends and that’s all we’ll ever be.” I powered through before he could argue. “Plus, if you talk about this, somehow Hungary will find out and come after us. If that happens, it will take forever to clean the nose blood off the floors.”

        “Oh. Right. Miss Hungary is scary when she tries to force people (men) together. I remember this one time she showed up at doitsu’s place while I was there and she – “

      “I _really_ don’t want to know, Feliciano.” I ground out. “Look, I’m not sure when I’ll be back home, An- _Spain_ is, ah, he’s sick right now – “ I ignored the worried verbal tick my brother made at that. “And since he’s a dumbass he’ll only make it worse if he doesn’t have someone to watch over him and make sure he doesn’t go out drinking with the Albino bastard and the fuck-face. So until he gets better I’m going to be here.”

      “Oh, alright, Lovi!” He snickered and I briefly worried about what he was up to. “Make sure big brother Toni gets better soon.”

       “Yeah, yeah, sure.” I grumbled wanting nothing more than to hang up on my stupid little brother before he killed what was left of my brain cells (being around Antonio for so long was sure to have killed most of them already).

     “I better say goodbye soon, I’m sure I’m taking you away from big brother Toni.” Yet another snicker. “Make sure he eats a lot of chicken noodle soup.”

       “Bastard only likes tomato soup, but sure, whatever.” He was starting to piss me off. I knew how to take care of a sick person. Antonio had come home sick or injured countless times back when I was a colony and I’d had to help take care of him, even when I had been so scared and worried my hands were shaking – not because I was worried _for_ Antonio! No, because I was worried about what would happen to me should he kick the bucket. Probably would have been sent to live with Austria again. Anyways, I was sure I could take care of him – wait. Dammit, Antonio wasn’t even sick!

      “Oh, and make sure he’s stays in bed!” Okay, now Feliciano was just being insulting. Even if I was a complete idiot I would know that a sick person is supposed to stay in bed until their fever goes down.

      “Alright, fine, Feliciano. I know how – “

       “Also, make sure to tell Antonio that you love him.”

       “Sí, sí. I will, now will you stop telling me what to do – ” My eyes snapped fully open and my mouth dropped when I realized what he just said. “No, wait! I didn’t mean that I – “ He hung up on me with a quick ‘goodbye, Lovi’ before I could yell at him. “Damn you, you bastard! How dare you hang up on me!”

      I snarled wordlessly and threw the phone as hard as I could…onto the bed (I’m not stupid enough to break the damn thing. That phone had been expensive). “That little shit. When I get my hands on him!” I continued to snarl and rant as I stomped down the stairs and back into the living room. I expected to find Antonio there, still watching that TV show, and I was hoping he was so I could yell at the bastard (misplaced aggression at its finest).

     I came to an abrupt halt as I saw Antonio sitting where I’d left him, but now Spain was sitting in the armchair staring at the television with fascination, his eyes tracking the moving figures on the screen. España was sitting on the second couch, holding a book which he seemed to be reading from when he wasn’t casting nervous glances at the TV. I could hear him mutter about witchcraft occasionally while unconsciously gripping the gold cross that hung from his neck whenever his gaze flicked to the mysterious box. They’d been here for almost two weeks now. I’m surprised they hadn’t seen Antonio or I watching TV already.

      I saw movement from the corner of my vision and turned my eyes away from the older version of Antonio (or younger depending on how you looked at it). It seems Antonio had finally noticed me. “Lovi! Come cuddle with boss.” Antonio called from where he lounged on the couch; holding his arms out, not unlike a toddler, as if he actually thought that would work

     “Hell no, tomato bastard.” I snarled quickly backing away from the couch. I was not in any way tempted to take the bastard up on his offer; especially not after that call from Feliciano.

     “You’d rather sit on _my_ lap, wouldn’t you, my little Roma?” Spain purred, leaning back and patting his lap in a manner he must have thought was enticing. As usual he was staring at me as a starving man stares at a steak. I didn’t even feel this violated when France was touching me (okay, that’s not true, but that stare was still pretty damn invasive).

     I quickly darted past both of them to sit next to España who calmly placed his arm around my shoulder in order to pull me close as he continued to read what looked like a strategy book, still turning glares at the ‘devil’s box’ whenever he turned a page, as if afraid it would come alive and attack us all. Superstitious psychopath.

     Spain sneered at España, looking like he’d leap from the armchair and tackle his Conquistador counterpart. Antonio pouted for a few seconds before shrugging and looking back at his show. I flinched as Spain turned his sneer on me, not because I was afraid of him, but because he actually looked…sad. I didn’t know that was possible. Spain growled again before shoving off the arms of the chair and onto his feet. He stalked from the room, hands fisted at his side. What the Hell was his problem?

     Antonio watched him leave before looking back at me. “Who was on the phone, Lovi?” I didn’t think he’d heard my phone…perhaps I had been too loud in my yelling at Feliciano.

     “Just my stupid little brother.” I grumbled. Dammit, I didn’t want to hear him squeal about how cute Feliciano was. It pissed me off every time and that bastard never seemed to notice (or care) he’d just wonder aloud why I was throwing things at him every time he started to talk about Feli.

      “Oh! How is your cute little brother doing?!” Shit. I tried to ignore the way my chest tightened and the burning feeling that made me want to hunt down Feliciano and punch him in his ‘cute’ little face. Antonio didn’t seem to notice and continued to ramble about how cute and sweet my little brother was. Fuck. Please don’t let him compare the two of us. That always hurts worse. I know that Antonio prefers me to Feli, he’s told me so, but every time he talks like this I can’t help but wonder if that’s actually true, and it brings me back to the day I heard him talking to Austria about trading the two of us…dammit. That had been, and was still, the worst day of my life; it hurts even now to think about.

      I could feel my hands curl into fists, tightening until the point it hurt and my knuckles turned white, digging my nails into my palm; had they been sharper I’m sure my palm would be bleeding. My jaw clenched, and I squeezed my eyes shut. Dammit, why does this always bother me so much?

     I jolted as España’s arm dropped from my shoulder to rub my back in soothing strokes. I flinched again when he pressed a kiss to my temple and whispered softly in my ear, “Don’t cry, Romano.” I hadn’t even noticed the hot tears that had been threatening to spill over from the corner of my eyes; I quickly wiped them onto my sleeve before anyone else saw. He closed his book and set it down beside him. He ran his free hand through my hair, avoiding my curl, as he continued to rub my back. “He doesn’t mean to hurt you. He only thinks your brother is cute because he looks almost exactly like you, little one. There is no one he- _we_ care for more than you. I only came back from the New World so often because I wanted to see you. Not North Italy.”

      “Really?” He smiled warmly at me. I’d never seen España wear such as soft expression. I scrunched up my eyes as he placed a second kiss on my forehead and pulled me into a hug. Antonio had been away a lot during those days. I almost never saw him, but I had refused to write letters and tell him how much I missed him, because I sure as hell didn’t, dammit! Still whenever he did manage to make it home, no matter how hurt (sometimes leaving trails of blood) or exhausted he was, the first thing he did was pick me up and spin me around (had he the strength) and tell me how much he missed his little tomato. Grant it that had been the Antonio side of his personality, but I’d had no idea that España had actually missed me.

      “Of course, Romano.” I hardly noticed when he shifted so he was leaning on the arm of the couch and he had me curled up against his chest, tucking my head under his chin, as he continued to pet my hair. “I love you very much, pequeño.” I tried to jerk my head up to look at him, but he kept me firmly in place. “I do, Romano, so don’t ever think that I, or Antonio, or even Spain, cares for anyone more than we care for you.”

     I could once again feel the back of my eyes burning. Why did I want to cry so much? I couldn’t even be sure what he said was true, besides, Antonio says he loves me, but he also says he loves Feli, and Prussia, and France, and just about everyone. Spain, I think Spain only feels lust towards anyone. He most certainly doesn’t love me, he just wants in my pants. But España. I could probably believe España loves me. Everything he does is in order to protect me. I’m not sure exactly what it means when he says he loves me, but if I had to guess I’d say it was in the familial, even fraternal way.

     “España,” I mumbled, once again trying to push away so I could look at him as I spoke. He made a small affirmative noise that told me he was listening. “I – umm. I don’t understand. I was always such a brat – I still…why – “

     His fingers carded through the hair at the back of my head, and gently pulled me towards him until his forehead was rested against mine. “Romano,” He paused until he was sure I was looking at him “I do not care about that, I never have, but do _not_ put yourself down, small one. You may be – you used to be hard to handle,” _used_ to be? “, but I never loved you any less for that. I’m sure if you were to ask the others they would say the same.”

     I looked over to where Antonio was sprawled out on the couch, watching the television again. He must have gotten bored singing Feliciano’s praises with no one to listen. Every time I looked at the curly haired bastard my chest tightened painfully and what España was saying was getting harder and harder to believe.

     No, dammit! Antonio preferred me over Feliciano. He said so. He – he promised. Fuck, why did I even care? Antonio was just a dumbass tomato bastard. I didn’t need his-his l-l-lov-attention! Besides two out of three of his personalities I knew for sure preferred me, so he must to right. Then again, Spain hasn’t seen Feliciano yet. He might just think that dumbass is more beautiful than me –

     Shit! I’m a man. Men are not beautiful! I meant handsome, dammit, handsome and manly and rugged and…yeah. I fucking meant fucking handsome and – and sexy, assholes.

     Never mind. What I’m trying to say is that Spain hasn’t seen Feliciano yet so who knows if he’d still want me once he sees Feli. Once again I’m wondering why I care so much. Wouldn’t it be a good thing if Spain stopped chasing me and groping my ass and went for Feliciano instead? At least Feli has the macho potato to protect his vital regions. Then again I had España to protect me –

     España pulled back enough so that his forehead no longer touched mine, then leaned up and placed a kiss on the bridge of my nose. “Te amo, Romano,” He whispered. I’m not sure what compelled me to do it and if you bastards say anything I swear I’ll deny it ever happened, but I wrapped my arms around España’s neck and buried my nose in his shoulder. I suppressed the urge I had to reply to those soft words. I wanted to reply, but I was unsure as to what I wanted to say.

     “Hey! Lovi~, I offered to cuddle with you!” I turned my head over my shoulder at the obnoxious whine so that I could glare at the tomato bastard. “Why will you cuddle with España but not me? It hurts Boss’ feelings. I love you, mi tomate.”

     “Shut the fuck up!” I snarled, pushing away from España, just now realizing that I’d actually initiated a hug. _Me_! What the Hell was wrong with me today? Worse yet, Antonio saw. Dammit, now he’s going to be expecting hugs. I don’t know if I can deal with that shit. “Screw you.” I flipped him the bird and stomped out of the room. “Stupid, fucking bastards. I just want to punch that dumbass in his dumbass face.” I started to tromp up the stairs; Spain poked his head out of Antonio’s room probably to see what all the commotion was about. “Not now, Spain.” I hissed, shoving past him when he tried to stop me. “Assholes. All of them!” I slammed to door behind me, completely ignoring Spain's confused gaze.


	7. Ch 6: Another Front Door Assault

* * *

Yet again that damn doorbell is ringing. I seriously need to either disable it, or get one of the three tomato bastards (probably España) to rip the damn thing out of the wall.

     I suppose it was a good thing that those bastards still don’t seem to know what to do when the fucking doorbell rings. As far as I was aware Antonio was in the back watering his tomato garden (a few of them were soon going to be ripe enough that we could harvest again) and España was on the other side of the house “securing all points of entry”; whatever that means. So that only left Spain to worry about.

      So once again I was answering the door, praying that it wouldn’t be Hungary, or some other nosy nation. The doorbell sounded as if it was being raped and I started to get a pretty good idea of who was on the other side of the door. I shouldn’t have opened it.

     I opened the door anyways only to find not only France, but potato bastard number two (or Prussia as he’s more commonly known) leering back at me; the albino bastard still had his finger pressed to the doorbell.

     I did what any other _sane_ nation would do.

      I slammed the door in their face and attempted to lock it. Those damn bastards were trying to force their way in though, shoving back against the door and twisting the handle so I couldn’t lock it; yelling about how they “just wanted to help their dear friend Antonio”. Give me a fucking break.

     I was just about to flip the lock in place when a pair of hands snatched my hips and pulled me away from the door and into an embrace. A soft pair of lips pressed themselves to the nape of my neck shortly thereafter, causing a shiver to trail up my spine and my face to heat up. There was only one person in this house who would do such a thing.

     Spain ignored my protests and started to trail kisses and nibbles up the column of my neck to my ear; all the while lisping, no doubt dirty, perverse things, in Spanish. “Where have you been, mi querido? Hmm? I’ve been looking all over for mi amado. You’ve been avoiding me haven’t you?” That was a lie; Spain had been off pouting and avoiding me and his other counterparts.

     “S-S-Spain!” I gasped, trying to wriggle out of his arms. Those bastards would be in the house any second. “Let go of me” I could practically feel the blood rushing to my face.

     “Not a chance, mi cariño” He whispered, sliding his arms to wrap more firmly around my torso as he kissed the back of my ear. Of course that _would_ be the scene France and Prussia opened the door on. Fuck my life.

     “Romano, why would you shut the door on the awesome…me…” Prussia just stood there with his jaw hanging open; watching in shock as Spain completely ignored him in favor of placing kisses along my jaw line. If I hadn’t been too busy staring horrified at the ex-nation I might have shoved Spain’s face away from my neck. I sure as hell would have tried to struggle out of his arms instead of just standing there, blushing like an idiot.

     “You know, the awesome me can always come back later if you want,” Prussia offered, chuckling at me as I squirmed underneath his red stare. Spain for the first time seemed to notice his friends.

     “Sí, if you would, mis amigos,” He answered, a smile on his face, but his voice clearly showing his impatience. “This _is_ after all the first time I’ve actually managed to catch my little Roma.” He nipped at the tip of my ear. Ah – I covered my mouth, I did _not_ almost moan. What he was doing was creepy and in no way did it feel good – oh god! I didn’t know ears could be so sen-sensitive.

      “Honhonhon. Antoine, we always knew you would realize your feelings for Romano. You know…Eventually,” France purred. Bullshit, you asshole! Aren’t you forgetting that you’re the one who tried to rape me just a few days ago?! The quick glare Spain shot France clearly stated that _he_ sure hadn’t.

And what were they talking about? Realize his feelings for me. As far as I was aware the tomato bastard, Antonio that is, saw me as his friend, maybe even as a brother. Spain on the other hand…well Spain made his intentions quite obvious. He nuzzled his nose along the length of my neck as if to prove my point.

     “Realize my feelings?” Spain stopped molesting me long enough to question. “I’ve known how I’ve felt for my Roma since the moment I saw him” He placed a kiss on my cheek. This one unlike the others in how brief and, God I don’t want to say it, sweet it was.

       “Toni, man, I know we’re called the Bad Touch Trio and all, but seriously. Not awesome. You’ve know Romano since he was a little kid. That’s gross. I mean, we always knew you liked cute things, but that’s more than a little too far.”

     Spain’s arms loosed just slightly around me as he gave the ex-nation a confused look. “What are you talking about? I’ve only known _this_ Romano for – ”

     I quickly slap my hand over Spain’s mouth; going so far as to completely turnabout in his arms, so that we were chest to chest, just so I could slap both hands over his damn mouth. Spain just arched an eyebrow at me as his friends whispered to each other, not entirely sure what’s going on. Though I couldn’t see it, I could feel the smirk that was spreading across his lips. I soon realized the devious thing he was up to when he started placing kisses on my palm.

      Now typically, my knee jerk reaction would be to snatch my hand away and start throwing curses left and right at the pirate bastard, but I didn’t want to take the risk of Spain giving away anything to those jackasses he considers friends.

     Turns out I didn’t have to though since Spain pulled my hands away from his mouth on his own just so he could start trailing kisses up my arm, no doubt eventually tying for my neck. That perverted bastard! As soon as I get those asshole friends of his to leave I’m giving him a piece of my mind! It’s bad enough those dumbasses think Antonio and I are together, I don’t need Spain molesting me in front of them to confirm it – wait! No! Antonio and I are _not_ together; no way no how! What the Hell am I even thinking!

     Spain did in fact move on to place kisses on my neck. Dammit, I want to punch him in to face. What did he think he was going to accomplish by –

      “Nh-Ahhh! S-Spain!” Prussia and France froze up, silencing their whispers in favor of turning startled looks at me. They couldn’t have been any more surprised than I was; I didn’t even know I could make such a noise. Dammit, why’d I have to gasp like _that_? It didn't even feel that good – Spain nipped at the skin where my shoulder connects to my neck (bastard probably left a mark!) before soothing it with a small kiss – oh who am I kidding. I’d never been touched this way, it was surprisingly –

     Wait! No, this was Spain we were talking about. There was no way I would let him do this; I was _not_ going to give in to his flirting (technically it had already moved past that point). “Cut it out, Spain,” I snarled trying to twist out of his hold.

     Prussia coughed awkwardly. “Hey, Toni, uh, Franny and I are just going to go, okay? Quite obvious you’re busy, and Romano seems to be enjoying it,” He shot me a wink. “, so we’ll just come back later when you’re done with this.”

     “Good! Go! Get the fuck out of here and don’t you dare come back, you bastards. If I see your faces around here again I’ll – “

      “If I’d known you wanted me all to yourself, mi amante, I would have made them leave ages ago” Spain purred, his arms sliding from their hold around my upper body down to my lower back. He pulled me into what I’d have to call an embrace, once more placing kisses on my jaw and cheek while lisping Spanish into my ear. “Te quiero.” He whispered nuzzling into my hair.

     “Aww, but I wanted to watch Antoine finally nail that fine piece of Italian ass. Honhonhon!” I turned the harshest glare I could muster at the Frenchman; kind of difficult to do with any amount of dignity when you have a determined Spaniard trying (and no doubt succeeding) to leave a trail of hickeys on your neck and throat.

      “I apologize, mi amigo, but _no one_ will _ever_ have the privilege of seeing _my_ beautiful little Roma in such a way but _me_.” Though Spain said it with a pleasant enough smile, there was a dangerous edge to his voice and a psychotic gleam in his eyes that left his fellow Iberian nation trembling and backing up towards the door.

     “You know what, you’re right, Antoine. Gilbert and I will just leave and come back later, maybe tomorrow. That will give you plenty of time with-with Romano.” He let loose another one of his pervy laughs but it was more scared than anything.

      “You’re acting really weird, Toni; awesome weird, yeah, but weird all the same. You’re kind of acting like you did back during your Armada days.” My back stiffened, Spain noticed and started to rub my shoulders, but that didn’t stop me from nearly having a panic attack. “I thought Franny said he was acting like he did in his Conquistador days.” Oh god, they were going to find out!

      “Yeah, now that you mention it…” France closely studied Spain (eyes straying too long on his ass for my liking – not that I was jealous or anything stupid like that). “What happened, Romano? Last time he was here he was treating you like you were his colony again. He most _certainly_ wasn’t feeling you up, not that I mind, honhonhon.”

      “He-he’s been regaining his…memories.” I shot Spain a warning glare as if to say ‘do not contradict me’. Spain was once again too busy nuzzling my hair to notice or comment, a soft smile (yeah, I’m also surprised that bastard was capable or anything other than a smirk) on his lips and an almost purring sound rumbling from his chest. I doubted he was even paying enough attention to have heard what any of us were saying.

    Regaining his memories. Come on! I can lie much better than that…sometimes…never to Antonio (Bastard knows me too well). There was no way these two would believe such an obvious lie. Sure they were morons, but they weren’t stupid enough to think that –

     “Well, why didn’t you say so, Romano!” Of fucking course, these two were such dumbasses they’d believe just about anything. “He’s recovering pretty well then I guess. How did this happen again?” I shrugged, albino bastard just brushed it off and kept rambling, “Whatever, the awesome me doesn’t need to know. As I said he seems to be recovering pretty well with just your help, so think how quick he’d be back to his old cheerful self with me and Franny’s help!”

      “Fuck no!” I snarled, nearly jerking out of Spain’s arms to take a swing at Prussia, however Spain’s grip was firm and I only succeeded in turning so my back was pressed against his chest again. I’m not sure where the sudden bravery came from, usually I’d let Antonio make the threats, protecting this secret was just really important. If I knew those two, and unfortunately I did, then their way of helping him out would be to take him out drinking and then make him do all kinds of stupid shit. “If I leave him with you two, _you’ll_ get him shitfaced” I snarled glaring at the albino bastard. “, and _you’ll_ try to rape his clueless ass” I hissed at France (I’m not sure why that thought pissed me off more).

      “Why, Romano, you wound me. I would never take advantage of mon ami Antoine. Especially not when he has a cute little Italian for a lover,” He leered.

      “He is _not_ my lover,” I growled, ignoring Spain’s comment of ‘not yet, mi angelito’. I might have been more intimidating if Spain wasn’t currently glued to my back, still whispering lusty things at me, trying to pull me back, deeper into the house, no doubt towards Antonio’s bedroom. “Besides, you bastards would just get in trouble and I’d have to bail you three out. Now piss off.”

       “Alright, Alright. Keep your pants on. At least until we leave. Or not,” France purred, receiving yet another snarl from Spain. “We’ll leave you two alone.”

      “But we’ll be back later to help Toni remember. Have fun you too! The awesome me approves.” He winked at Spain. “Have fun, Toni.” He pulled France out the front door after Spain told him he most certainly would. Like hell.

      “Don’t you dare come back, you bastards! If I catch you two around here – ” The front door slammed behind them cutting off my angry threats. “Your friends are assholes!” I informed Spain, crossing my arms over my chest.

       “Mhmm,” He murmured against my neck, right beneath my ear. “Whatever you say, mi Romanito.”

       “I mean serious assholes. How can you stand to be around them – wait, never mind, you can be just as much an asshole when you want to be.” He made a noncommittal sound. “And another thing - !

     “What the Fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Spain cursed under his breath and stopped his wandering hands. I’d been so worked up I’d hardly noticed when Spain’s hands started to drift both too low for my liking as well as too high as he tried to get a hand up my shirt. He removed the one hand from my shirt but the other was still much too low on my hips right at my waistband, his fingertips brushing my skin. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.”

     I expected Spain to continue doing whatever the Hell he wanted and by the way he tightened his grip on me and squeezed I thought he was going to do just that but instead he reluctantly released me, placing a kiss on my forehead as he drew away.

      “Of course, mi amado,” He sighed, then walked off to some other part of the house, he stopped halfway down the hall. “Just, why is it that you’ll curl up and be all nice to España and that-that wimp, but whenever I…forget it.” He grumbled, continuing off down the hallway.

      He-he actually listened! He actually let me go…but Spain is a horny bastard, why would he – not that I care or anything, but still. Now that I think about it he’s never actually gone too far. Well, he did grope me that one time, and he does like to pin me against things and his hands did drift too far today but – what was I getting at? Oh right, the point is that Spain’s never actually gone too far and raped me or anything (Not like France would have by now). He’s never left any marks on my neck (though I’m not certain if that’s true anymore, I’d have to check a mirror soon), and he generally listens when I tell him to stop. Usually he looks pissed afterwards, but today he just looked defeated, upset even. Why?  Yeah, I rejected him, but he should know not to try anymore (As I’ve said I don’t swing that way) and it’s not like there’s anything between me and the others.

        You know what? I don’t want to think about this. It’ll only piss me off more and confuse me. What matters now is how I’m going to keep those two bastards from finding out about Antonio. No matter what I do or say they’re just going to come back and keep bothering me until they stumble upon the truth. I can’t let that happen so I’m going to have to take the three tomato bastards somewhere else. The only problem is where.

     I could take them back to my house since the only people who actually know where I live ever since I moved out of Feli’s house are Feli, my boss, and Antonio. The only reason my boss knows where I live is so he could find me should Feli drive our economy into the ground and he needed me to bail us out of shit…again. Feli only visits when he wants something, or at least it seems that way and since he just ‘visited’ it’s doubtful he’ll go looking for me there anytime soon. If he did need to talk to me he’d no doubt show up here and since I have no intentions of staying here waiting for the rest of the BTT to return he’d just go back to the macho potato and cry about how he’d lost me.

     The more I thought about it, the more appealing the idea was. The only problem with bringing the three tomato bastards to my house until this is all settled was, well, actually bringing those three tomato bastards to my house. My little ferarri wasn’t going to fit all four of us, and I doubted España would even get into the automobile, he’d probably think it was more witchcraft. Also, there was no way in hell we were taking Antonio’s shitty little SEAT Ibiza. I hated that damn thing; I think they stopped making it in the 90’s or something. No doubt because they realized what complete shit they were…then again, my hatred for Antonio’s shitty red car probably spawned from the fact that the Germans had some hand in the production of it…hmm, yeah, probably. I don’t care if it _was_ supposed to look like an Italian car; those bastards just had to get the Germans involved.

     Whatever, the point is that there was no fucking way that I was leaving my baby here for the F and G in FAGs to key. Or worse yet for Hungary to find and…draw conclusions. Who knows what her fucked up mind would think if she saw my car sitting in Antonio’s driveway.

     No matter what though, I had to get the three bastards out of this house/mansion. It was only a matter of time before someone showed up, who wasn’t a complete dumbass or someone who refused to be turned away at the front door. Now all I had to do was figure out how we were going to get there…shit.


	8. Ch 7: I'm not Marrying That Bastard

* * *

     “I’m going to kill that bastard,” I snarled, staring into the mirror. “, I really mean it this time!” When I find out where in this damn mansion he’s hiding I’m going to go all mafia on his ass…better yet I’ll show España and he’ll all too readily do that for me.

     I glared at the purple and blue splotches marring my neck and – shit! He had somehow managed to leave bruises on my shoulders (How the fuck had he managed that!?). It wasn’t even like there was one or two of them or they were in easily concealable places. No. Not at all. That bastard had marked me where he _knew_ I wouldn’t be able to hide them and he marked me just about everywhere.

     So far I’ve only had one hickey in my life, and that had been from Antonio – now before you start getting any ideas, that only happened once, and it had been when Antonio had stumbled home drunk after a night/early morning out with France and Prussia. That bastard had practically fallen into the house (I’m still not sure how he’d managed to get to _my_ house or why he came to my house in the first place). As soon as I’d opened the door he collapsed on me, whispering softly in Spanish before nibbling on my collarbone. Luckily he’d completely forgotten about it in the morning, he’d just wondered how he got to my house. To explain it he came up with this fucking ridiculous idea that he’d teleported in his sleep. He spent the two following weeks trying to ‘teleport’ again (And he wonders why I call him a dumbass).

     At least that one had been easy to hide, I mean dammit. Just looking at these I knew that I probably wouldn’t even have to tell España about this. He’ll just see them when I go down for breakfast and launch himself over the table at Spain.

      I looked over my shoulder to where the tomato bastard was still sleeping, completely oblivious to my crisis. I thought about throwing something at his head just so he’d wake up and I could bitch at him about his damn pirate self, but I _know_ he’d just start give me that dopey grin, tell me how cute I was blushing like that (assuming he woke up at all), then beg and whine at me to come back to bed and cuddle with him. So in order to avoid that, I instead opted to raid my old closet for something to wear; anything that would cover up the majority (if not all) of these bite-marks. I’m not sure what though since, as I said, they were everywhere and putting pressure on them sort of stung.

     Upon closer inspection I noticed there was a small S nibbled into the flesh at my collarbone. How in the fuck – Okay, he’s definitely dead now. It was bad enough that he marked me but that he had the balls to actually initial me. I’ll fucking kill him. Absolute first thing I do when I see him, even before I send España after him, I’ll kick Spain in the nuts. I’d like to see that bastard try to have kids once I’m through with him. Not that countries can have children without extenuating circumstances, and not that he’d have kids anyways since I’m pretty sure he’s completely gay, or at the least prefers men over women, but – you know what, never mind. Even I’m not sure what I was getting at anymore, point is I’m going to kick him till it just isn’t fun anymore.

     “SPAIN!” I slammed the door open, Antonio fell out of the bed at the sudden noise, my mood slightly improved when I heard Antonio start to moan about how he’d landed on his face (Yep, that made me feel so much better). Didn’t mean I wasn’t going to strangle Spain still. “You fucking bastard! You get your ass out here now! ” I heard more stumbling and falling sounds, this time from the room that was previously Antonio’s. I stomped towards the door, ignoring the fact that should he want Spain was stronger enough to…overpower me. However, I was far too pissed right now to think clearly.

     The door in front of me swung inwards, revealing a startled and somewhat sleepy looking Spain standing in the doorway. His eyes settled on me and for a few moments he actually looked nervous (I must look more intimidating than I thought). Of course that didn’t last long and as soon as Spain caught sight of my “pajamas”, his one track mind drifted into the gutter…again.

       “Ah, mi Romanito. It is so wonderful to see you this early in the morning.” I shivered as his eyes raked over my body. Dammit I should have at least put on a t-shirt before I stormed off in my vengeful rage. “Mmm, I could get used to seeing you like this, mi amante.” He purred, hooking his thumbs into the elastic waistband of my sleep pants so that he could pull me into the room.

        I shoved him away. “Spain, I am not in the mood for this shit. What the fuck did you do this for?” I hissed, jabbing at the S-shaped bite mark. “Do you have any idea how hard it will be to hide these!?” Spain’s eyes narrowed, not seeming to notice or care as I continued my rant. “Are you listening? Pay attention to me, dammit!”

      Spain snatched my wrist and yanked me into the room; he slammed the door shut behind me before pressing me to it. “Why would I want you to hide them, Roma?” He growled. “I’ve told you before and I’ll continue to tell you until you finally get it. I want you, Romano, and I won’t stop until I have you.” He grabbed my chin and tilted it up, exposing my throat to him. “You _will_ be mine and I _will_ claim you before the others can; even if it means leaving a few marks like these,” He pressed a gentle kiss to the closest mark “, to prove just how serious I am. I will not give you away, not to anyone. I promise this, mi amado.” His fingers locked behind my back and he drew me closer, until his forehead touched mine.

     “Look, you can promise all you want, but I’m not going to-to give you what you want just so you can chase after someone else once you get it. So you might as well go and find someone else to-to s-satisfy you. B-besides, I’m not interested in-in men.” I spluttered the last bit and I could feel my face heat up. Dammit, when had it become so hard to make that line sound convincing? I was a man, and an _Italian_ man at that. I flirted with pretty girls all the time. Sure it never went past flirting, but – No! I was not ga-I’m straight dammit!

     “Chase someone else?” He cocked his head to one side, giving me the confused look I often found occupying Antonio’s face. “Who else is there that is as perfect as mi Roma.” His arms tightened around me, pressing our chests together. “I don’t expect you to give yourself to me, Roma, at least, not yet; but you never have to worry about me leaving you once I have you.” I flinched only slightly when he pressed a kiss to my brow. “I would guard you and treasure you as you deserve, mi corazón.”

     Well if I hadn’t been blushing before I sure as hell was now. I tried to push him away, but for some reason my arms felt like jelly now and I could do no more than softly nudge him. Why did he say things like this? He was a pirate wasn’t he? His word didn’t mean shit. As soon as he found someone better, someone less difficult, he’d forget all about me. I’m not sure why such a thought hurt so much.

      I sighed tiredly. “Let go of me, Spain,” I muttered quietly, defeated almost. “I’ve got stuff to do.” I tried to nudge him away again and this time he released me. “Come down for breakfast soon, I need to discuss something with the three of you.” I turned around and opened the door. Spain stood behind me, watching me leave, for once his eyes not on my ass.

* * *

      I sat down at the table, breakfast sitting in front of me, and the three tomato bastards sitting around me, all of them watching me with varying degrees of curiosity. Spain looked more closely than the other and I tried my damndest not to meet his eyes. “Okay, so…We can’t stay here.” The three glanced at each other.

      “What do you mean, Romano?” España questioned, I noticed his eyes quickly flicking down to the collar of my shirt before returning to my face. I’d tried my best to cover the bite marks, but some of them were too high up to cover without a scarf and since it was too damn hot this time of year to wear one, I was stuck leaving the upper most hickeys exposed. Though I’ll be damned if I didn't wear the highest collared shirt I owned (or rather, kept at Antonio house).

     “Those bastards you guys consider your friends were over here yesterday and since I don’t think it’d be a good idea to let them know about…this,” I gestured vaguely at the three of them. “, then we’re going to have to go somewhere else before they come back.”

      “Why does it matter if they know or not, Lovi?” Antonio questioned, his head tilted to one side. His eyes also drifted down to look at the marks but he looked confused by them rather than pissed off as España had. “Hey, Lovi, did France give you those?” He much like España was now glaring at the marks. In my peripherals I could see Spain smirk.

     “Uh…N-no. But look, that’s not the point right now, point is that if those assholes found out then it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the world knew and this just turns into one giant cluster fuck.”

      “Romano, language.” I was sorely tempted to flip España off but I knew how much of a bad idea that was (thanks to my colony days) so I resorted to giving him a dirty look.

     “Okay, so where are we going to go, Romanito?” Spain asked, resting his elbow on the table and leaning on his palm as he openly admired the red and purple bruises he’d left on me. I could see España’s eye twitch as he realized where or who exactly those marks had come from.

     “My house.” I replied quickly, distracting España from his anger before he could launch himself at Spain. I’m not sure what had changed. I’d been all too happy earlier today at the thought and surely those sweet empty promises Spain had made hadn’t affected me.

       “Yay! We get to go to Lovi’s house!” Antonio cheered, knocking his chair over in his haste to make it around the table and pull me into a crushing hug. “It’s been so long since I’ve been there – oh! You still have a tomato garden right?” I nodded. “Can I help with it?!”

      “I-uh-it’s not - my garden isn’t as nice as yours is, An-tomato bastard, but…sure.” He cheered once again and squeezed me even tighter. It had been a while since I’ve been home, so I was hoping that my tomato garden hadn’t withered and died in my absence, at least not past the point of repair.

     “Mi Romanito has his own house?” Spain exchanged a look with España. “You mean, you don’t actually live here?” España looked as equally confused. The two continued to exchange confused stares before turning simultaneous glares on Antonio. “You mean you let him go!?” They snarled (Well España snarled, Spain sounded more horrified than anything).

      “WHY?!” Spain also stood up now and circled the table, yanking me up from my chair, out of Antonio’s arms and into his own. “Why would you ever give up our Romano?” He nuzzled my hair. “I can’t imagine ever letting my Roma go.”

     “Neither can I,” España rumbled, joining us on my side of the table. “Who did you give him to?” He snarled, no doubt thinking about the day before and how I’d shared my…my insecurities with him. “Or did you become weak and someone took him from you.”

     “I’m _never_ going to become so weak that I cannot protect and keep my Roma,” Spain muttered rubbing his cheek against the top of my head.

       “Look here, bastards! Antonio didn’t have a choice. That albino bastard, your supposed friend, joined up against him with eyebrow bastard and that pothead Netherlands. He’d just gotten done with a civil war and he’d been through a lot of shit. So shut the fuck up! What do you know?!” Shit, why am I defending him? “I had to go live with that uptight bastard Austria for a while but it wasn’t so bad, okay, it was sort of bad, France was around…a lot. But, Feliciano and I eventually became a unified nation.”

       “Still, I can’t imagine letting you go. Especially not to Austria.” Spain mumbled, messing with my hair, drifting far too close to that particular curl for my liking. I elbowed him away.

      “I had to let mi Lovinito go.” He smiled at me, a soft sad thing that look so out of place on Spaniard’s typically cheerful face. “I tried to get him back, I refused to sign the treaty with Austria, but my boss pushed me into another war, and I…I couldn’t get him back. It’s okay though, he would visit, and he still comes back…sometimes.” Dammit, maybe I should visit the bastard more often after this is all over. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.

     “Even so, why didn’t you do anything to ensure he would return and stay?” España rumbled. “Even after he and North Italy united there must have been something you could have done to bring Romano back to you-to us.”

     “Well, there was this one time, six-seven years ago that I-I proposed to Lovino, but h-he said no,” He let out a bitter sounding laugh, “, probably for the best I suppose. I’m still not entirely sure what…compelled me to ask him…”

     “I never said no,” I snarled, not sure why I was angry, it’s not like I’d actually wanted to marry the tomato bastard back then – and I don’t want to now, dammit! “I said I’d agree if I got three meals and a nap everyday…with pasta.” I grumbled.

     “What!?” Spain smacked Antonio over the back of his head. “We-you could have easily provided that! Why in the hell didn’t you marry our little Romano?!” España nodded in agreement. Spain wheeled back around to face me. “Mi amor, will you marry _me_ then? I will ensure you have three meals a day, a nap, and as much pasta as you could possibly eat!” That last one was probably an impossible promise, as anyone who knew me and/or my brother would know, but I had little doubt Spain would at least try.

     “Hell no! It was a joke dammit! Neither Antonio or I were s-serious about getting married.” At least, I’m pretty sure that tomato bastard hadn’t been serious. “The only reason he asked was because his country had just legalized gay marriage,” I grumbled. “He was asking just for the hell of it. Look, this isn’t what I wanted to talk to you three about so can we stop talking about this. It’s damn emba-obnoxious!”

      “Lo siento, Roma” “Sí, I’m sorry, Lovi” “My apologies, Romano” They replied simultaneously; Spain with a small pout, Antonio with his head hung looking sheepish, and España looking thoroughly chastised.

      “Good” I grumbled to myself for a few moments, trying to remember what exactly is was we were talking about before the whole…marriage thing. “As I said, we can’t stay here much longer, so we’re going to go to my house.” I cast a glare at España when he started to mutter about how weak he must have become to let me go so easily. “The only problem is getting there.”

     “Umm…well, we could always take my car, Lovi.” Antonio offered, a grin quickly spreading across his face. “You can sit up front with me! Won’t that be fun, Lovi!”

      I glared at him. “No. No it would not. I hate that shitty little car of yours. Besides, what am I going to do with my Ferrari? Huh? What about that dumbass?”

      “Oh…well you could always park your Ferrari in my garage. There’s plenty of room in there.” Dammit, why hadn’t I thought of that? I’d have to make sure Antonio locked all the doors before we left so someone wouldn’t waltz right in and decide to take my baby for a joyride, but it was better than the alternative (i.e. leaving it out in the open for France and/or Prussia to steal and/or key).

      “Fine…that still means we have to take that piece of shit Ibiza of yours.” I crossed my arms – no I was not pouting! “Well, we might as well go today, who knows how soon those bastards will be back.”

     “Don’t speak so lowly of mis amigos, Roma. France and Prussia are decent enough to give me _plenty_ of time to have my wicked way with you.” Spain leered, eyes half lidded. “They won’t be back until tomorrow, maybe even the day after that.”

      “Do what now – ” España started to stand, no doubt he’d go find his war axe and embed it in Spain’s skull.

      “ _Anyways_! We need to leave soon. I don’t want to be here when those jackasses come back.” Antonio nodded. He’d probably agree to just about anything I told him to do…dumbass. España reluctantly grumbled an agreement, even if he did claim he could have _ensured_ that Prussia and France wouldn’t return. Spain continued to smirk as he shrugged an agreement.

      “Where you go, so shall I, mi querido.” He vowed, gripping my chin in order tilt it up. He had just started to lean down towards me when España gripped the back of his neck and pulled him away. 

     “Keep your hands and all other parts of you to yourself, Spain” España warned, shoving him away and towards the sink before standing between the two of us. “Now what exactly is this thing you and Antonio keep talking about? This…carrr?”

     “A car?” Antonio bounced forward, more than happy to explain to his (younger?) counterpart. “Well, you see, a car is like a, like a carriage?” He looked back to me for confirmation; I just waved at him to continue. I really wanted to see where this was going. No doubt España would be more confused by the end of Antonio’s description. “Right, well, its likes a carriage, it’s got four wheels, and room for passengers, usually four or five, but some of them can hold even more than that!”

      España cocked and eyebrow at me as if to say ‘what the hell is he talking about?’ Antonio continued to ramble on, ignoring the Conquistador’s near vacant expression. Spain seemed like he was actually listening, looking absolutely fascinated. “Wait, wait!” Spain held up his hands. “You mean these carriages do not need horses!” A genuine grin spread across his face.

       Antonio perked up and shared an equally stupid grin with the pirate. “Nope! They run on gasoline! I’m not entirely sure how that works but Lovi could probably explain it better than I could.” Yeah, probably not. “Cars are really fast too, much faster than a carriage.” Highly doubtful concerning your piece of shit car, Antonio. “Oh! Lovi’s car is probably _really_ fast.” You bet your ass it is. “It’s so pretty and red and his is even named after his country and – ”

      “Yes, bastard, Ferraris are fucking amazing, now can we please just get ready to leave?” I griped, shifting my weight to the right and cocking my hip. “Also, open the garage so I can park my car.” Antonio nodded and skipped off to do as I said, leaving España and Spain to stare at me.

     “What?” I squeaked –  I mean growled…yeah…anyways. “What are you looking at, bastards?” Spain just smirked at me and shrugged. España once again looked like he wanted to scold me for my language.

      “Whatever, I’ve got to go park my damn car.” I started to head out of the kitchen, planning to go upstairs and retrieve my keys from my room.

      “Roma, can I watch?” I must have given him a perplexed look, “I mean, I want to see this…car for myself. Is it that thing sitting in front of the house? I was wondering what that was. Antonio was right, it is rather beautiful. Much like mi amante.” I flushed from head to toe. Dammit, why did he have to say things like this?

     “I-I suppose, b-bastard.” I quickly left the room, leaving Spain in the kitchen. I took the stairs two at a time; I could already hear España arguing with Spain. I quickened my pace and ran into my room. I started searching the room thoroughly. Dammit, I always forget where I put these fucking things. I got down on my knees to search under the bed. Maybe they’d fallen down here. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Antonio might have knocked them off when he fell of the bed this morning.

      “ **Lovi!** ”

     “FUCK!”

     I smacked my head on the bottom of the bed as I jerked up. I slowly crawled out from under the bed, keys in one hand and the bump forming on my head in the other.

       “Don’t sneak up on me, you bastard!” I yelled at Antonio, rubbing at the top of my head, and cursing every time I pressed too hard. “Fucking hell, Antonio!” Dammit, I will not cry in front of him, it did not hurt that bad, dammit I will not – I cursed again as I felt a few tears beginning to form. “What do you want!?”

      “I-I’m so sorry, Lovi!” He darted to my side and dropped down onto his knees. “Here, let me look.” He loosely gripped my wrist and pulled my hands away from my head. “I’m sorry; I didn’t know you were under the bed, mi tomate.” He pressed a soft kiss to the bump. “I’m really, _really_ sorry.” He hugged me to his chest as he petted my hair. “Lo siento. Lo siento.”

     I sighed, there was no way I could stay mad at the bastard (okay, yes I could, but not right now) and I knew he was already punishing himself for this. “Yeah, yeah, shut up. I know you didn’t do it on purpose…bastard.” I mumbled, trying to slap his hands away when he moved to wipe the tears from my eyes. “Just tell me what you ran in here for.”

      “Oh, right.” He scooped me up and set me down next to him on the bed. I probably should have bitched at him for picking me up without permission, but he already looked like a kicked puppy so there would be no point in making him feel worse. “Well, I wanted to tell you I’d opened to garage door.” He wrapped his arms around me so tightly I was forced somewhat into his lap. “I really am sorry, Lovino.” He mumbled into my hair.

      “It-It’s alright, ba-Antonio.” I moved so that the top of my head wasn’t pressing painfully into his chin. So what if it looked like I was snuggling closer? That sure as Hell wasn’t what I was doing, dammit. It was just a coincidence that by moving out from under Antonio’s chin I rested my head on his shoulder. And so what if I hugged back!? I was just ensuring I didn’t fall off his lap – not that I wanted to be there!

     …

     Yeah, well screw you! I don’t need to explain myself, dammit.

      I tightened the grip I had on Antonio’s shirt before pulling away enough that I could look at him. “I’ve had worse, Antonio, so stop apologizing…I for…I forgive you.” I stammered as quick as humanly, well nationly, possible, before burying my face back into his shoulder so he couldn’t see my face heating up and I didn’t have to see the stupid grin that lit up his face. 

     “Thank you, Lovi” He whispered, pulling me even closer so that I was now completely in his lap. “My cute little tomato.” I rolled my eyes; bastard always did know how to ruin a moment. I sat up straight but he still refused to loosen his hold or let me off his lap.

      “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fucking adorable” Dammit, I’m glad Spain wasn’t around to hear that, I know he’d have made that into a dirty joke. “Now let go, you and the others have to pack, and I need to park my car.”

      “Aww.” He squeezed me. “Just a little longer, Lovi?” He pouted up at me, his chin rested on my sternum and his arms pulling me completely against him. I blushingly tried to ignore that such a move had shifted me so that I was straddling him now. I glared down at him as I gripped his shoulders afraid that should he let go (Unlikely, but it could happen if the bastard got distracted by something) I’d fall off the bed and land on my injured head. “With the other mes around I haven’t been able to hug and cuddle you like I used to. They’re always stealing your attention.” He stuck out his lower lip. “I-I just miss you, Lovi.” He lowered his head and pressed his face into my chest.

       Dammit! Was today just ‘make-Lovino-feel-like-the-worst-person-(nation)-in-the-world’ day? Shit! I can’t believe this, I actually want to-to hug that bastard back. Let’s get one thing straight though, I only wanted to hug him so that he’d stop pouting. It’s damn depressing.

       “Al-alright, bastard – but just for a minute, got it!” I let my arms drape loosely around his shoulders and hesitantly dropped my head to rest on top of his, briefly struggling with the urge to nuzzle into his curls. Dammit, what the fuck is happening to me. Just a few weeks ago, the thought of letting Antonio hug me, much less me hug him, was repulsive…kind of.

     “Mmm. This is nice, Lovi.” He murmured softly, snuggling against me, his hands grasping the back of my shirt so he could drag me closer. Shit, if Spain or España walk in this room Antonio would soon be nothing more than a blood splatter on the wall and I’d either be thrown over España’s shoulder as he looked for a safe place to lock me up, or thrown over Spain’s shoulder as he looked for the nearest bed to screw me into. He tilted his head back up to smile at me. “Don’t you think so?” He asked, completely oblivious to the danger he, and quite possibly my vital regions, were in.

      “It’s not horrible” I grumbled, looking anywhere but at him, my face heating up with a telltale blush. “You’re still a bastard.”

      “Of course, Lovi” He chuckled, looking as if he were trying to smirk. The expression looked out of place when Antonio used it. “Ahh, you look like such a tomato right now!” He leaned up as if to get a closer look at the scarlet that was no doubt painting my face. His actions made me flush even harder which, no doubt, pleased him to no end.

     “Sh-shut up, Antonio!” I whined, trying to lean away from his face, which kept growing closer despite my efforts.

      “Oh! You called me Antonio again!” He nearly squeezed me to death now, moving me closer to him, our noses touching. His face was so close to mine I could practically feel the bright grin the threatened to split his face in two. “Ah, so cute, tan lindo, mi Lovi!” He squeezed his eyes shut, stupid grin still firmly in place, and rubbed his nose against mine.

       “Did you seriously just give me an Eskimo kiss, bastard!” I once again tried to jerk away from him, spitting out curses as I did. Antonio’s eyes popped open and gave me a surprised look; I stopped struggling in order to give him a proper glare.

       His head cocked slightly to one side, confusion plain in those green eyes of his. Dammit, they’re so fucking green. I stopped fidgeting, paralyzed under Antonio’s stare, barely noticing as he angled his head up, his nose brushing against mine, and our foreheads touching. He still wore that confused look, but now his eyes were searching mine.

     “An-Antonio?” W-what was he doing?! He wasn’t going to – he seriously wasn’t about to do what I think – but I thought he only saw me as – there is no way this is happening! The tomato bastard is not trying to – to _kiss_ me…is he?

     One of his hands released the grip it had on the back of my shirt and moved up to tangle itself in my hair, barely missing that certain curl. Antonio continued to give me that intense stare, leaning ever closer, and I was sure he was going to take my first – I mean, umm…he was going to try and take a-a kiss from me.

       He looked like he was going to do just that, and for some inexplicable reason I had the urge to close my eyes and just resign myself to the fact that the bastard was going to steal a kiss (I’d honestly thought Spain would be the first to steal a real kiss). I could feel his breath mingle with mine and I knew there was less than a second until our lips met. He was about to move that final few centimeters or so when he suddenly blinked as if waking up from a trance. Before I even registered the change in Antonio’s behavior, that dumbass grin was back on his face and he just gave me another Eskimo kiss before leaning away.

     W-What!?

     What the fuck just happened?!

      His arms loosened around me. “Ah ha ha,” his eyes shifted nervously, I’d never seen Antonio look so…conflicted. “Well – uh – I suppose I better go see if the others are getting r-ready to leave, shouldn’t I.” He carefully deposited me off his lap and onto the spot next to him, gave me one last odd searching look before making a hasty retreat out of the room.

     Again.

     What the fuck just happened?!


	9. Ch 8: Road Trip

* * *

     “Fucking bastard. What the Hell was all that?” I slammed the door to my car (not too hard) and kicked Antonio’s shitty Ibiza for extra measure. Even if such an action did hurt like a bitch. I stalked out of the garage and back into the house, steeling myself to round up the three bastards and herd them out and into the SEAT. I cast a final glare at said vehicle and one last longing glance at my Ferrari before stepping into the house.

     Spain came skidding around a corner, nearly bowling me over. “Aww, Roma, you said I could watch” He pouted, looking over my shoulder at the tomato red Ferrari Italia sitting just behind me. “You shouldn’t tell lies, mi querido.”

       “Mi dispiace” I grumbled waving him off. “I forgot” I walked past him and into the kitchen so I could sink down into one of the chairs and wait for the others to show up. “Are you ready to leave?”

      “Sí” He answered softly before drifting into silence. He studied me for a few moments then began to take a few steps towards me. “What is wrong, mi cariño?” He sat down in the chair beside me. “I did not mean to upset you, Roma. If I did I am…sorry” Damn, he’s probably never said that and meant it before.

      I couldn’t stop the tired sigh that escaped me. “You didn’t do anything, pirate-bastard. Nothing’s wrong. I’m just being my usual pissy self” I muttered bitterly.

      “No, Roma. You never get angry without a reason. What is it? Did something happen?” His eyes flicked over me again before stopping at the noticeable bump on my head. “How did this happen, Roma!?” He leaned forward, hands grabbing my sleeves and an ankle hooking around the leg of my chair in order to pull it closer. “Did Antonio do this?” He growled, still more confused than angry.

      “No. Antonio would never hurt me. He just startled me and I smacked my head against the bottom of my bed” I shrugged out from under his hands and refused to meet his concerned gaze.

     “How did you manage that, Roma? What were you doing under your bed?”  He pulled my chair closer and gently grasped my face so he could turn my head either which way as he studied the small bump.

      “I was looking for my keys, it’s not a big deal, now let go. I need to go find the other bastards” I once again pushed his hands away and went to stand.

     “No. Stay here, Roma. I’ll go get them. Sí?” He leaned forward and kissed my temple. He walked to the refrigerator and I was about to yell at him that there was no way that the other would be in the fridge when he pulled out a bag of frozen corn. “Here, mi amorcito,” He carefully pressed the frozen bag of vegetables to my head “, I’ll be back soon” He leaned forward to press a kiss to the tip of my nose then sauntered out of the room.

     I shook my head at his retreating back, but stay sitting with the frozen corn pressed to my head injury. Not long after I could hear voices upstairs and not much longer after that I heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Antonio was the first to enter the room; his eyes refused to meet mine and he just walked back out of the kitchen after retrieving his keys from the hook. Seconds later I could hear the door out to the garage open and not long after the sound of the trunk opening and no doubt luggage being thrown in.

     España entered next and the first thing his eyes locked onto was of course my injury. He kneeled in front of me and took my free hand in his. “Are you alright, Romano?” He reached up and took the somewhat less frozen bag of corn from me so he could inspect the wound.

      “I’m fine, dammit! You all treat me like I’m still some small fragile colony. I’ve had worse than this! It’s not a big deal” I snatched the frozen corn from him, rose to my feet and threw it back into the fridge. “Let’s just go okay!” I stomped out of the room, Spain at my heels. España soon followed us.

     “Did someone lock all the doors and windows?” España nodded. “Good then we’re ready to go” I lead the two into the garage, past my beautiful Ferrari, dammit I was going to miss driving it, who knew how long it would be until I would get back here. I opened the door to the Ibiza and slid into shotgun, leaving Spain and España to sit in the back. Antonio offered me a timid smile before turning his attention back to the car and backing us out of the garage. I made sure to shut the garage door behind us.

      As we pulled out of the driveway I looked back at Antonio’s mason-house-thing. Why Antonio had this piece of shit car when he owned such a gi-fucking-gantic house I’ll never know.  I then turned my eyes towards the back seat; Spain had his hand pressed against the glass as he stared out, his eyes wide and fascinated. España on the other hand kept his gaze glued to the back of my seat, refusing to look out the window even as Spain nudged at him with his elbow and insisted he look. No, once again España was muttering about black magic and whispering a few prayers under his breath. Damn, I’d had no idea he’d be this freaked out.

       “España,” His head lifted and his eyes met mine. “, the car doesn’t run on witchcraft or some other ridiculous shit. It’s just a machine. Someone built it just like they built your ships, okay?” He slowly nodded. “So stop freaking out, you’re supposed to be the brave one here” He looked shamed at this for a few moments before nodding and sitting up straight.

      Spain leaned forward out of his seat. “Roma? How long will it take to get to your house from here?” He kept turning his gaze from me to the windows as if he couldn’t see enough.

     “About thirteen hours”, I grumbled. “It’s a damn long time to be stuck in a car with you three.”

      “That’s really fast. Usually such a trip would take days, a fortnight even!” He once again began studying to interior of the car with awe.

     I watched him as he leaned further out of his seat. “Put on your seatbelt, bastard. If the dumbass over here wrecks you’ll go flying through the windshield.”

       “Put what on? And what’s a wind shield?” He looked around for the mysterious seatbelt. I had the sudden urge to bang my head against the window. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

      “That strap beside you with the metal hook thing is a seatbelt.” I pulled mine slightly away from me in demonstration. Spain grabbed the end of the seatbelt staring at the end. “There should be a buckle next to you.” He turned back to where he found the seatbelt. “Other side, dumbass.” He looked around for a few moments and I was sorely tempted to just buckle him in myself when he made a triumphant sound and grabbed the buckle.

     “Now what do I do, Roma?” España was watching the interaction, his seatbelt in hand as well now.

      “Seriously?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You just push that metal end into the buckle. It’s not that difficult!” Spain looked confusedly between the two pieces for a second before shoving them together. It took a few more tries but I finally hear the telltale click that signified Spain was securely buckled in place. “Congratulations, you just figured out how to do something even children can do. No don’t lean to far forward or your seatbelt will lock you in place and you won’t be able to move.”

      Spain grumbled a complaint but nodded. I heard a second click as España buckled his own seatbelt. I turned to check on Antonio, bastard sometimes forgot his seatbelt, even when I lectured him on how dangerous that was. He’d just coo at me and tell me how cute it was that I was worrying for “boss”. As fucking if. It’s not like countries could actually die from a car wreck. They still hurt like a motherfucker though. Antonio seemed to have learned this time since his seatbelt was locked firmly in place over his chest.

    “Now, Roma, what is a windshield?” I looked back at Spain again.

     I leaned slightly forward and knocked on the front window. “This is a windshield. Anymore questions?” He looked as if he was going to ask but I cut him off, “Keep them to yourself.” I turned back around to face front wondering if I should turn on the radio and take the risk of España flipping shit and trying to rip out the radio.

     “Roma” Spain purred. Shit. I didn’t like that mischievous tone of voice. “Mi querido.” I glared over my shoulder at him. He looked as if he was about to lean forward before remembering my warning of being locked in place.

      “What?” His eyes trail over me and a smirk spread across his lips. “What are you think you sick bastard?!” I pulled up the collar of my shirt self-consciously.

      “Ah, nothing, mi amado. I was just thinking about how nice that shirt looks on you, but I can’t help but think you must be uncomfortable with such a high collar.” The smirk that then spread across his face was smugger than should be possible.

       “Shut the fuck up, Spain,” I hissed, turning back around in my seat and glaring out the windshield at the road ahead of us. Spain instead of taking offense just snickered. “Bastard.” I added for extra measure.

      Despite my warning that didn’t stop Spain from raking his eyes over the hickeys he left on me, or rather, where the hickeys would be were the not covered up (for the most part), and making vague, but bordering on obscene comments about my neck. Forget this morning, nice words or no, I was going to have España brutally murder his counterpart first chance I got.

      Speaking of España, the Conquistador was sitting almost perfectly still in his seat, casting the occasional glare at Spain, no doubt having caught on to what pirate had done. Either that or he was planning what to do to the pervert that “corrupted his innocent Romano”, some crazy shit like that.

      Antonio, as usual, was oblivious to it all. I still don’t think he’s realized what Spain was talking about. Instead he decided to ignore it all and chat with (or _at_ as the case may be) anyone in the car who would listen (So, mostly just me). Every once in a while he’d give me these awkward, uncertain looks. No doubt thinking about what the Hell had happened this morning. Even I’m not entirely sure, but if I know Antonio he’ll forget all about it by the end of the day.

     At least, I hoped he would…maybe.

* * *

 

We had been driving a little over five hours now, more if you count the time Antonio stopped for gas. I’ll never forget the disturbed looks on the faces of those tourists when Spain leapt out of the car like an excited child and closely studied every little thing Antonio did while filling the tank. One woman had quickly shooed her kids into her minivan, locked the doors and rolled up the windows. Other than that we hadn’t stopped and if I didn’t get out of this car in the next few minutes I was going to beat the shit out of someone; even if that did mean stopping in France. I didn’t think I could wait until we crossed the border into Italy; that was still hours and hours away.

     “Antonio,” I ignored to tiny, delighted squeal he made at the use of his name, “, let’s stop soon and get something to eat.” Spain readily agreed, complaining about how his stomach had been growling for the past hour or so. Yeah, I know, Spain. I heard it you, bastard. España had yet to complain, but his stomach had also started to growl not too long ago.

     Antonio pulled over at the next exit into this city-thing, Brignoles. If it wasn’t for the fact that it was in France I might have thought that the little city was beautiful since it overlooked the coastline, but as I said, it was in that fuckface’s territory. Antonio eventually stopped near what look like a little family owned restaurant.

     The overhanging was a bright yellow with as equally bright blue letters spelling out: _Restaurant Lou Cigaloun_. The front door and window was the same color of royal blue; as were the shutters on what appeared to be a second floor. There was an arch leading to a semi-dark alleyway beside it that. Even though we had just walked under it after parking just further down the street, España still made sure to keep me steered clear of unless he was close by. Sure the place next to it had a hot pink overhanging but a restaurant that had well-maintained potted plants in and outside couldn’t have been all bad…then again, this was France.

     Now walking in I had expecting things to be blue like the front had, so I was somewhat surprised when the inside was a painted in whites and yellows while the table clothes were an odd orange color. There were numerous tables, all of them able to seat four excluding the table nearest the fire place which looked like it could seat eight.  Moldings were on the top and bottom of the wall and a fireplace of to the side. A bar sat along the wall perpendicular to it. Besides the out of place, modern-looking, light fixtures, placed at what seemed like random intervals, were decorative moldings. Or at least, I think they were supposed to be decorative. There was one of a little orange and black lizard and another of what looked like a fly sitting on grapes…I’ll never understand French people. But that’s probably a good thing. The only decoration that made sense was a molding of yellow leaves along the center of one of the walls.

     We must have looked like an odd group. There weren’t that many people there, we’d just missed the lunch rush, assuming this place ever experienced a lunch rush, so besides the waitress there was only one couple sitting off to the side to stare at the somewhat-short (it’s not that I’m short, those bastards are just really tall), pouting Italian, and the three nearly identical Spaniards that had just walked in.

     “Bon jour, ” I’m sure the waitress said more after that, but I’ll be honest and say I tuned her out. It’s not that I hate French people, it’s just I know their nation is a perverted bastard, so I can’t trust any of them. Not a single one of them. Either way after giving us some sort of greeting and bringing us to our table she left with promises to return with menus or something. Once again, I tuned her out.

     I slumped down into the seat closest to the wall so I could make sure no French perverts could sneak up on me. Spain, as expected, dropped down into the seat closest to me, before scooting it even closer so he could drape an arm around my shoulder. I shrugged it off a couple of times, but after he replaced it the third time I figured the bastard just wasn’t going to give up so I let it be. España sat in the seat across from me, eyes sweeping around the room a few times, studying the couple sitting at the other side of the room suspiciously. Antonio practically jumped into the seat on my other side and grinned at me.

      “Lovi, isn’t this place nice?” I shrugged noncommittally. “I went here once with Francis and Gilbert, but that was a while ago. I thought you might like it even if it is a little out of the way” He leaned forward, arms ready to wrap around me and no doubt yank me into a hug, but at the last second he flinched and backed away.

      “Yeah, sure. What did our waitress want?” I grumbled; too busy wondering why I hadn’t tried to flirt with the woman to care why Antonio was acting so weird. I’m Italian dammit, I always take the chance to flirt with pretty women…something must be wrong with me today. Then again, Spain might have gotten all possessive and done something to warrant our arrest, and probably alert France to our presence here. Fuck. I hadn’t even thought of that. What if France showed up? Shit, there would be no way I could explain the three to him.

     “Oh, uh, not much. She said she’d be back with menus. Mostly, she just wanted to know if we were triplets or they were my younger brothers.” He said, nodding towards his doubles. “I told her they were my younger brothers.” That made more sense than saying they were triplets. Even though they looked almost exactly the same, Spain and España looked a few years younger than Antonio.

      “Hey, Lovi.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the way Spain’s arm tightened around my shoulders. “Do you want me to order for you? I know you don’t read French very well,” or at all, since I’d refused to learn anything that had to do with the fuck-face and his country. “, and since France is my friend I know enough to order – “

      “That’s fine, Antonio.” I grumbled, stopping him before he gave me a headache. I’m use to Antonio rambling, but never like this. He sounded nervous, as if expecting me to lash out and start spitting curses at him. I suppose that’s entirely possible, that happens at least once a day when I’m around Antonio, but he had never taken my threats seriously or been worried about me reacting violently.

      I’m not sure what I ended up eating, it tasted alright. I’m not even sure what it was called, I hadn’t been able to understand a single word when Antonio had ordered. What I did know was that the bread in the basket the waitress brought us as we waited for our lunch was the shit. _Damn_. Don’t get me wrong, I hate France, but that bread was kickass.

      Throughout the meal I had to constantly deflect Spain’s wandering hands, España would stare at me from his seat opposite me, occasionally looking behind him as if expecting an attack. Antonio would go from bright happy grins and mindless chatter to quiet stares and perplexed frowns. At one point he muttered to himself something about “just friendly affection” and “we’re just really good friends” some shit like that and afterwards seemed completely back to normal, awkward glances completely forgotten. I probably should have asked what the fuck he was talking about, but then he would tell me, no doubt by extensive ramble, and why would I want that?

      I grudgingly returned to the car, opting to sit in the back seat so I could at least attempt to take a nap. España forced Spain to sit up front so the pervert couldn’t molest me in my sleep. Spain didn’t object all too much, even after five hours of being stuck together in here he was still fascinated by the modern vehicle.  Antonio was left inside to pay, as usual…damn, maybe that’s why most nations think Antonio and I are a couple. I should probably pay for myself from now on, despite that bastard’s insistence. Then again, I’ve never been able to turn down a free meal, so who gives a shit what the other nations think.

       Antonio practically skipped around the corner, under the archway and then across the street to where we were parked (idiot of course didn’t look both ways when he reached the crossroads). He glared briefly as he slid into the driver’s seat, having spotted Spain in the front, but he was soon smiling again and telling me stupid stories about other places he, France and Prussia have gone. Not that he had to tell me, I had been dragged along quite a few times, and the times I hadn’t Antonio would usually show up at my house drunk, or call me late at night to slur and babble about how much he loved/missed me. I usually hung up after a few minutes with a, “Call me in the morning, you ass!”

     “Lovi, do you remember the time we went Las Fallas?” I tried to force down the blush that came with the memory of that particular festival. It's not like Antonio and I go to a lot of festivals together, but dammit, there were plenty to choose from so why did he have to mention that one? I thought we were never going to talk about that day again…well, at least I had told him we were not to talk about that day ever again. Not ever.

     “Of course I do, bastard. It was last spring.” I looked out the window, hoping they wouldn’t look too closely at me, I could feel my face heating up, and I was most likely pink by now.

     Dammit, as if the loud noise of the fireworks hadn’t been painful enough, the other people at the festival had thought Antonio and I were a couple and Antonio, like the clueless bastard he is, had refused to let go of my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. That had been so damn embarrassing I’d wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I would have done so, but every time I’d tried to leave, either the crowd would be too thick for me to make a quick getaway or Antonio would pull me into a hug as he told me how cute I was.

     It had only been made worse when France and Prussia showed up, I’m still not sure who had invited those assholes (probably Antonio, although he denies it to this day), and started to make lewd jokes that Antonio hadn’t understood, but left me the tomato red Antonio likes so much. The fireworks had drowned out half of what they said, but that didn’t stop them. I’m not even sure how they had managed to find which part of the city we were in, much less which roof we were on since Valencia is packed during Las Fallas. 

      “That was fun, Lovi. OH! Can we go together this year too?” Fuck, no! That was not happening. No way. No how. The first time had been humiliating enough, the second time was bound to be permanently scarring. Plus, my ears were still ringing.

       “No! You’ll just invite those bastard friends of yours again, so go with them!” Antonio pouted. Of course he did. Antonio always pouts when he doesn’t get his way and like the blushing idiot I am I usually give in if he pouts enough. Not this time though. “No. Pouting won’t work this time, tomato bastard!”

      “But, Lovi! I didn’t invite them,” He whined, sticking his lower lip out further and giving me those damn puppy eyes in the rearview mirror. No, it’s not going to work! “Lovi, I don’t know how they knew we were there. I invited you because I wanted to spend time with mi tomate and _just_ mi tomate. I even told them to leave, remember?” Yeah, I remembered, France had then proceeded to ask if Antonio was planning to do something…dirty to me and, ‘can I watch, honhonhon’…damn fuck-face.

      “Just pay attention to the road, dumbass. Besides Las Fallas isn’t for a few more months still. Why are you asking me now?” Antonio merely shrugged, offered me a happy close mouthed smile, and then focused completely on driving, humming to himself.

     I tried to focus on the passing scenery but quickly grew bored and ended up staring at the back of Antonio’s head. Despite Spain’s loud, excited inquires about the car I could feel myself begin to drift off. I yawned once and knew I was done for. My eyes started slipping closed and I had to suppress a second yawn. I heard the click of a seat belt, then felt España shift into the seat beside me. Not long after I heard a second click, an arm wrapped around me and my head came to rest on his shoulder. I probably should have bitched him out but I’d already missed my siesta so I just let it slide. Last thing I heard was the two idiots in the front seat arguing about how cute vs. beautiful I was when I was asleep. Assholes.


	10. Ch 9: Lightning, Thunder, and Snuggles

* * *

     “Let me carry him, España!” “No, you’ll leave even more marks on him.” “No I wouldn’t! It’s no fun to tease Roma if he isn’t awake. Besides, but you don’t know where his room is, amigo.” “Neither do you.” I was jostled a bit as arms tightened around me.

     “Enough. I’ll carry Lovi.” “But you’ll drop - ” “I will _not_ drop my Lovi. Plus, I’m the only one who knows where his room is.” I was shifted again, this time the arms around me were not as tight but were warmer. “I’ll go put him to bed and then show you two where you can sleep. Sí?”

     “But I want to sleep with my little Roma.” “Not happening!” “Don’t tell me you don’t want to sleep with him too, España. I know you do.” “That is beside the point – ” “Oh, I see. You just want him all to yourself.” “Better me than you, you promiscuous, immoral -” “Immoral? Hey! Who was the one who slaughtered hundreds of thousands of natives in the New World? Oh right, that would be you” “You’ve raped hundreds of women and – ” “I never raped anyone! I can assure you they were all quite _willing_. And it wasn’t hundreds, nor were there that many _women_.” “You’re a sick pervert. I’m going to do my best to keep my innocent Romano away from you.”

     The voices grew dimmer and I realized either the arguers were moving away or I was being carried away. I tried to open my eyes to see what was going on, but my eyelids were too heavy. Where was I? Who was carrying me? Dammit, last thing I remember was being stuck in a small car with those three tomato bastards – oh. That probably meant I was home.

     I once again attempted to open my eyes. I was positive that it was one of said tomato bastards carrying me through the house and judging by the previous arguments it was Antonio. My eyes stung at the sudden fluorescent lights and I could only open them halfway without being blinded. My vision was blurry and when I rolled my head to the side to look at the bastard carrying me he was a fuzzy blob of caramel and chocolate. The flash of emerald green reassured me it was the tomato bastard and not some random half-a-countrynapper.

     “An…Tonio?” I couldn’t keep my head up and it rolled back to nestle against his neck. “We a m…ma how-house?” He snickered, a half-whispered ‘cute’ leaving his lips, as he nuzzled the top of my head.

     “Sí, Lovinito.” His grip tightened and I had to wrap my arms around his shoulders as he started going up the steps. “Hold on tight, okay? I don’t want to drop you.” I nodded sluggishly, my cheek brushing his throat. I felt him shiver and wondered if it was too cold in my house. It didn’t feel cold to me, but then again I had a perpetually hot – hot as in temperature wise, dammit – Spaniard carrying me.

     “S-sh-sure, An-ant...Tonio” My fingers gripped the back of his shirt. “How you get in tha house?”  Mmm, he was so warm. Has he always been _this_ warm? And when did his hair become this soft? I pressed closer, burying my face into his shoulder. There was another shiver as I exhaled; Antonio grew even warmer. The warmth was quickly lulling me back to sleep.

     “You gave me a key a few weeks ago, L-Lovi. Remember? So I wouldn’t keep climbing in through the window when you wouldn’t answer the door.” Oh right. Creepy bastard. The few neighbors I had, had thought that Antonio was either: a robber, a stalker, or my lover. I’m not sure why they thought that last one. If I had a lover, he – I mean _she_! – wouldn’t have to sneak in. Just like Antonio, they would obviously have a k…key

     …

     **Shit**! I hadn’t even though what giving Antonio a key would look like! Dammit, what did my neighbors think?!

     My eyes fully opened at the thought and I struggled weakly (I sure as hell didn’t want to be dropped) to get out of Antonio’s arms. “Dammit, bastard. Put me down! I can walk there by myself. You should go get those other bastards before they break something.”

     “No, Lovi. You’re tired. Last time this happened and you convinced me to put you down, you tripped and cut open your palm on a dresser” His hold constricted further, not painfully so, but tight enough that I wouldn’t be able to escape.

     “Dammit, don’t make it sound like this happens all the time, bastard. The only time you have to carry me is if you and your bastard friends force me to go out with you-with them. You assholes stay out _way_ too late. Besides, I didn’t want your drunk ass carrying me. You smelled like that cheap beer Prussia likes and you were about to drop me at any second!”

     “I would _never_ ever drop you, Lovi” He promised. Yeah, like I’m going to believe that. Sure, no matter how drunk he, or I, or both of us were. Not that I really drank when I was out with Antonio and his friends because I was afraid France would rape me in my inebriated state, but every once in a while it happened…not the raped by France part praise God. Anyways, no matter how drunk any combination of the two of us was, he had yet to drop me – but I wasn’t taking any chances.

     …

     Next time. Right now, Anto – the tomato bastard was probably right. I could barely keep my eyes from sliding shut, so it was doubtful I'd be able to walk all the way to my room or get into my bed. If by some miracle I did make it to my room, I would probably face plant it on the floorboards just beside my bed and just not be able to bring myself to care enough to pull myself up onto the bed and crawl under the covers.

     Antonio used his back to push open my bedroom door, careful not to bump my feet or hit my head off the doorframe.  “See, almost there, Lovi. I told you I wouldn’t drop you.” We’re not there yet, bastard, I thought of telling him but didn’t want to tempt fate. “Here, I’m going to set you down.” I’m not sure how he did it, I guess I will always underestimate Antonio’s strength, (it’s either that or I need to put on some weight) but he somehow managed to hold me up with just the arm under my knees and his opposite shoulder as he pulled back the green and white duvet. The sheets were pulled back next and I was slowly lowered onto the mattress.

     My arms locked around his neck as my back touched the bed, almost pulling him in after me. “Mi dispiace,” I quickly muttered; my mind was still hazy and the sudden shift had startled me. Antonio leaned over me, one hand pressed into the sheets just beside my head, having quickly caught his weight so that he didn’t land on me. The other hand was still trapped between my back and the bed. “I didn’t mean to – ”

     “It-It’s alright, Lovi” He chuckled nervously, trying to look anywhere but at me as he slid his arm out from under me. “It's my f-fault. I put you down too fast” He finally got his arm free but stayed where he was, suspended over me, both arms now propping him up; one to either side of my head.

     I quickly started spluttering my apologies when I noticed it was my arms still trapping him there, still locked behind his neck, keeping him from moving away. I dropped my arms to my side as fast as I could, but then jerked them away again when they came to rest on his arms. Son of a bitch! Today just kept getting bett-more awkward by the moment.

     “It’s fine, mi Lovinito” He moved back so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, the one arm still stretched over me, his hand resting by my hip. He took my hand in his. “I’ll be back later, sí? I’m going to go find a place for me and the others to sleep.”

     “Well, there’s the room you claimed whenever you drop by unexpectedly” That drew a snicker from Antonio. “Then there’s the room Feliciano has declared his whenever he visits, as rare as that is anymore” I murmured, Antonio squeezed my hand in response. “You’ll have to warn whoever takes that room. Feli keeps sneaking pictures of that fugly macho potato in there. Might give whoever’s stuck in there nightmares. Just the thought that there’s a picture of that potato bastard in my house gives me nightmares.” Antonio actually laughed at this. It had been a while since I had heard him laugh. Really laugh. It caught me unaware and I was unable to prevent the little smile it caused. Shit, at least Antonio hadn’t seen it.

      “Alright, well, where can I sleep, Lovi?” I thought about telling him he could sleep in the third guest bedroom. I don't think anyone had actually slept in there yet. I’d actually been thinking of turning it into an office. I could tell Antonio he had to sleep on the couch, you know, if I wanted to be even more of an ass than usual.

     “As long as you don’t do anything weird, you can sleep here, bast…Antonio” His eyes widened and for some reason a blush started to spread across the bridge of his nose, reaching the tip of his ears. The blush quickly faded as if it had never been there and he beamed at me.

     “Thank you, Lovi!” He practically dropped forward to squeeze me in a tight embrace. “Thank you! I’ll be back real soon” A warm kiss was pressed to my cheek before Antonio darted from the room, leaving me to curse and shake my fist at his retreating back.

     I grumbled to myself as I curled up on my side, facing the door, determined to give Antonio an earful when he returned, but I fell asleep to the sound of Antonio’s footsteps as the thundered back down the stairs.

* * *

     _No one will ever love you_ A voice growled, rumbling like thunder. _You know that, don’t you, Romano._ I tried to back away. I had yet to see the man’s face, but I had heard that voice many times during my childhood. _That’s why I picked Feliciano over you_. Light briefly flashed, almost blinding me in its intensity, only present long enough for me to see a pair of brown eyes before the figure was once again shrouded by the darkness. _That’s why **everyone** picked Feliciano over you._

     “But Antonio – .”

     _Antonio is it now? What happened to ‘bastard’ or ‘dumbass’?_ The voice grew louder as the man approached, his footsteps booming, louder than any step should or could be. _Do you honestly believe he loves you? That he cares for **you**? _ The laugh that followed was cruel. Light flashed a second time, this time revealing a glimpse of unruly auburn hair, not unlike my own, and white teeth bared in a sneer.

    “He has told me that - ”

     _Told you that he what? That he loved you?_ He scoffed. _And you believe him?_ Snickers echoed around the empty space, growing louder by the second, crescendoing to the point I had to cover my ears. Light silhouetted the tall, broad shouldered man for a handful of second before it sputtered out once more. _The only reason he or **anyone** would keep you around would be to get to your younger brother._ He whispered in my ear, strong hands grabbing my shoulders and trapping me in place.

     _Tell me, Romano, mio nipote, do you love Antonio?_ I flinched. _Of course you do, you wouldn’t let him as close as you do if you didn’t. Now tell me, nipote, how does it feel to know he will **never** love you back?_

     “I – I don’t love Antonio.”

     _You cannot fool me, Romano. Perhaps he might love you back if you were nicer. More like Feliciano. Maybe if you didn’t call him a bastard so often he might have told you he loved you by now_. More light streaked across the room giving me a clear view of the tanned skin and smirking lips. _Many people might have loved you were you more like my cute little Feli_.

     “Shut up! You don’t know anything. In case you forgot,” I jerked my arms out from under his hands “, you left me behind, nonno!”

     _That I did, and it was the best decision I ever made_. I backed away from him. _I only feel bad that Antonio had to deal with you for so long. You were such a useless child. You ended up making more mess for Antonio to clean up than you actually helped him._ I took a few more steps away from him.

     “I told you to shut up!” Shit. Those words still stung, even though I knew they weren’t true. Or, at least I know most of them weren’t true. I hoped…but what if…

     “Fuck you! España told me he loves me! He told me that even if I did screw up, he still cared for me! I don’t have to listen to this!” I turned my back on him and walked away.

     He followed at his own pace, his footsteps once again earthshaking. _You cannot run from the truth, nipote_. _You know as well as I do that it’s true. Mr. Austria didn’t want you. Antonio tried to trade you. Or had you forgotten?_ I froze in place, unable to take another step. Light cast his shadow on the floor, flickering as he approached. _And who did he try to trade you for?_

“…Feli” I whispered.

     _I’m sorry, I’m afraid I didn’t catch that. **Who** did he try to trade you for, Romano?_

“Feliciano!” I snapped. “He tried to fucking trade me for Feliciano! That is in the past though. He told me he was sorry. He told me that he never meant to hurt me. He – ”

     _No, Romano_. _The only reason he keeps you around is because he wants your body. If he can’t have Feliciano, who better to have than his brother? The brother who could pass for his twin._

“Go back to hell, old man.” I did what I do best. I ran before he could make another grab for me. My eyes were stinging now. Shit, I will not cry in front of him.

      “No, it’s not true. It can’t be true.” I ran faster, not paying attention to where I was going, not that the path was really visible anyways. I slammed into what felt like a solid brick wall. I would have fallen on my ass had arms not encircled my waist and drawn me back against that obstacle.

     _What is not true, my Lovi?_ Light flickered with a loud crash. Warm green eyes flickered back. _Why are you yelling, mi amor?_

     I stared up at Antonio, mouth agape. “W-what did you call me?” A rumbling purr echoed through his chest, the feel of it made me shiver. The light shone again, lighting up his eyes. This time they were darker. They looked sort of like they did whenever Spain was staring at me. A tremble traveled up my spine. Who was this? He looked like Antonio, he sounded like Spain, but he didn’t act like either of them.

     _Mi amor_. He rolled the r into the tip of my ear. _I called you mi amor_. _Is that not what you wanted, Lovino? Do you not want me to love you?_ The previously predatory grin turned dark and dangerous in the newest flash of light. _I cannot honestly say I love you, but I will convince you of such if you want, my love. You may not be my lovely Feli, but you look close enough. It will not be difficult to pretend as long as you keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut. Or rather, if you keep it…occupied_.

     “But – I – you said that – I don’t understand.” I pushed against him, trying to keep the wandering hands and the curious lips off my skin. “Antonio, I – ”

     _What is it that you don’t understand? That I never loved you? That I lied?_ His hand trailed slowly down my back, the other sliding up to card in my hair with false tenderness. _Why is that so hard for you to believe, Lovino?_ The hand in my hair tangled viscously and yanked back, exposing my neck to him. My hands automatically flew to his wrists, trying to pry him off. This of course meant I was no longer pushing him away so he forced himself against me. The hand in my hair continued to pull, the pain causing tears to leak out against my stubborn will.

     _Or is it that hard to accept that no one, not even your caretaker, your best friend, your **beloved** would prefer you over you innocent little brother?_ Lips dragged across my throat as if searching until finally blunt teeth found their mark and sank in.

     “ **NO!** ” I tried to pull away as the feeling of blood already welling up and rolling down my skin sent terror to flood through me. Spain’s bites hadn’t been this painful. Then again Spain’s bites didn’t have the intention of bringing pain, and none of them had drawn even the tiniest droplet of blood. Antonio let go and leaned slightly back, his grip forcing my head even further back in order to study his handiwork, much as Spain had not too long ago. The look was different though. Spain had looked on the marks with pride and desire. This jackass looked on with twisted glee and sick lust.

     The hand in my hair finally let go, but before I could release a sigh of relief, the hand was grasping me by the jaw; nails digging into the flesh of my cheeks and palm pressing into my Adam’s apple, hard enough that it was becoming a difficulty to breathe. All of this was agonizing, but none of it was as excruciating as Antonio’s words.

     _I hate you._

     “No, you can’t mean that.”

     “Lovi.”

      “Antonio, please. Don’t hate me. Please! I – ”

      _You what?_ The hands dropped to grip my upper arms. _Would you prefer I continue with the lies?_

“No. No no no no no!” I whimpered, trying to squirm out of his hands.

     “Lovino.”

     _Alright then._ He once again moved so that his lips were next to my ear. _Te amo, mi pobrecito_. His lips pressed soft kisses to my ear. _Is that what you want to hear?_ He bit sharply into the shell of my ear and once more I could feel the shedding of blood. _Te amo_. He cackled darkly.

     “No! Let go of me, you bastard,” I jerked left to right, trying to get free. “Stop. It hurts!”

     “Lovino!”

     _Let go? But this is what you wanted!_ Blood smeared kisses trailed up my shoulders to my jaw. I squeezed my eyes shut against them, my stomach rolling in protest. _Would you like me to say it again?_ A third ripping bite was made on the column of my neck. _Te amo_.

     “Ah. No, please,” I begged, trembling as his touch.

     “Lovino Vargas!”

     He shook me again and when my eyes opened, intense green stared back. I did the first thing I could think of to get away; I slammed my forehead into the bridge of his nose. As he reeled back I wriggled away from him, expecting to hear snarled curses and violent threats.

     My hands became tangled in sheets as I tried to crawl away. It was this combined with the moans of pain that brought me back to my senses. “Lovi, what-ow-what’s wrong?” My head whipped back around to face the speaker.

     Antonio was staring at me with worry, his hand pressed to his nose and blood dripping down his hand from between his fingers. Lightning lit up the room and the terrible flash of scarlet made me realize where I was.

     “Oh God, Antonio, I’m sorry!” I launched myself at him, winding my arms around him as I hide my face against his chest. This was probably not the best idea since I no doubt made the nose injury worse, assuming I hadn’t already broken his nose. “It was horrible!” I sobbed. “Please, please, _please_ , don’t hate me, Antonio!”

      His arms were quick to wrap around me. I almost started to thrash again, panicked that I was back in that horrid nightmare. The arms were gentle though, and warm, and they cradled me as if I were something precious, something to be protected, completely disregarding his quite possibly broken nose in favor of comforting me.

       “Never, Lovi. I have never, will never, and could never hate you.” He peppered my forehead and temples with kisses. “Besides you’ve done worse than this before. Did you think I would hate you for something as little as a broken nose? I don’t think it’s even broken.” He declared, removing one of his arms from my waist so he could gingerly press at his nose. He flinched a little, but nothing really looked out of place and the bridge of his nose was only slightly swollen. “Nope, not broken.” He grinned as he cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs swiping away the tear tracks. “Here, let me just go clean up.”

     He started to move away and I had just let him go when thunder crashed through the room. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him back to me. “Antonio, please don’t go,” I whispered. I was going to hate myself tomorrow but right then I couldn’t let him go. I never could during a thunderstorm.

     “Alright, Lovi.” Arms slid under my knees and another arm around my shoulders. I tried not to squeak as he lifted me off the bed. “I suppose you’re coming with me then,” He teased as he carried me towards the attached bathroom. I really _should_ yell at him for princess carrying me so often. He walked in the open door, flipped on the light switch with an elbow and set me down on the counter. He then turned on the sink faucet so he could wet the washcloth I handed him.

      “Well, it doesn’t look too bad,” He laughed. “I suppose we’re even now, huh, Lovi. That reminds me, how is your forehead?” He turned to me his eyes first settling on the almost non-existent bump on my head before drifting down to my lips. Oh God, this isn’t going to be like this morning is it?

     His eyes widened and he threw the used washrag into the laundry basket before searching the cabinets. I was about to demand to know what he was doing when he stood back up with a second washcloth. With rushed movements he soaked the new washcloth under the faucet then rung it out. Once more I was going to ask what was wrong; his nose didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore. He pressed the damp rag to my lower lip.

     “Lovi, how did you manage this?” He whispered; gentle hands, one tilting up my face at a better angle, and the other dabbing at my lower lip with the washrag. I winced as I finally registered the pain that his actions were causing. “Did you do this while you were having a nightmare, Lovi?”

      “How the fuck should I know? I was asleep, dammit. Besides, I didn’t know it was there till you pointed it out. Ow-dammit. Bastard, be more careful.” He dropped the second rag into the sink, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. The action caused me to flush up to my ears so I pushed him away quickly, turning around to look in the mirror for myself, twisting at my waist.

     There were dark circles under my eyes and I was unusually pale, hopefully sleep would take care of that. That damn curl of mine was all frazzled and twisted. What stuck out the most was the split lower lip, which was already scabbing up. Damn, I must have bitten myself during the dream. At least I hadn’t bitten completely through it.

     “You always manage to hurt yourself, mi tomate” Antonio murmured, pressing close once again and turning my head back around so he could study the injury. “Want me to kiss it better?” If it were possible my face would have exploded with the sudden rush of blood. The look he was giving me, head titled inquisitively to one side, was innocent and concerned, bastard didn’t know what he was suggesting. How could one man be so fucking clueless?

     “Fuck no, you asshole!” I shrieked, attempting to hop off of the sink counter. “I do not want you to kiss anything, you got that?” His face had just turned a bright red as he finally registered what he just asked when I successfully managed to push myself off the sink. I’m not sure what happened after that, but one moment my hand was gripping the door knob, ready to slam it behind me and keep the dumbass away from me; the next moment I was clinging to him, my whole body trembling. Dammit, it was just loud noise and bright flashes, why did this terrify me so much.

     “Shh, Lovi. It’s alright.” Arms once again curled around me, enveloping me in warmth. “Come on, let’s get back in bed.” He attempted to scoop me up again, and I was sorely tempted to run away and dive under the covers by myself when lighting flooded the room and I practically leapt up into his arms. He wisely chose to cover his snickers with a cough.

     “Just so you know, bastard. I’m not letting you carry me because I want you to. Go it?” Shit if that made any sense. Once again Antonio made a wise decision and just nodded his understanding. He carried me back into the bedroom, my fingers digging into him every time thunder would rip through the house. He’d probably have a bruise or two tomorrow. He carefully lowered me onto my side of the bed before curling up on his side. Wait…forget what I just said, Antonio does _not_ have a set side in my bed. The whole thing is mine dammit.

     I ordered myself to stay on my side of the bed and not curl up to the Spaniard, but every time the lightning would flash and the thunder would follow more quickly than the time before, I found myself inching closer to him. Antonio finally took the decision from me and shifted into my space so he could curl around me, much like he would when I was small; protecting me from the storm.

     “Do you want to talk about the nightmare?” He mumbled into the top of my head, arms pulling me against his chest and causing my face to bury into the hollow of his throat. His hand cupped the back of my head, fingers tangled in my hair. I tried not to yank away from him as the action brought back memories of the dream Antonio. The grip was in no way painful and I was quickly relaxing into the touch. His other arm coiled around my back, holding me tight, but not so tight that I could not escape should I actually want to.

     “N-no,” I whispered, lips brushing the skin of his neck, “It was…it was nothing.” I gripped the front of his shirt and shook my head. “Damn thunder was messing with my dreams is all. Besides, I’ve had that nightmare before, it’s nothing new.”

     I could feel Antonio lift his head so he could look down at me. “Do you have nightmares a lot, Lovino?”

     _Yes_

     “No. Just every once in a while.” Another loud boom had me pressed flush again him, fingers buried into the back of his shirt. “They’re not bad. I swear.”

      _No, they’re not bad. They’re horrible_

     Antonio made a distrusting hum in the back of his throat; I could feel the vibrations against my nose. “You _can_ talk to me about them, Lovi. I don’t want anything to be upsetting you. Perhaps if you talk about it, they will not be so scary, sí?”

    _No, I don’t want to know if it’s true_

     “It’s nothing, Antonio. Please, can we just go to sleep?” I tilted my head up and gave him the best pout I could manage with a split lip. It worked just like it did every time I stuck out my lower lip or bat my eyelashes at the bastard.

     “Okay,” He grumbled, nose nuzzling back into my hair. “If you change your mind, I will be here, mi tomate.” He snuggled up to me, completely ignoring that he was still in the jeans and T-shirt he wore throughout the day.

     I tugged up on his t-shirt, ignoring the blush that wanted to make itself known on my cheeks. “At least go put sleep clothes on, bastard. Those jeans can’t be comfortable.”

     He shrugged. “I’m fine, mi Lovinito. I don’t want to leave you alone when you’re scared.” Damn, sweet, fucking bastard.

      “I think I’ll be fine for the time it takes for you to change, bastard. Just don’t take too long. Besides, I don’t want to listen to you whine tomorrow about how uncomfortable you are, nor do I want to have to smell you.” He chuckled as he disentangled himself from me.

      “If you say so, mi tomato.” He rolled out of the bed, pulling the T-shirt up over his head, his back flexing with the movement, as he headed towards the bags by the door. He must have put them there after he returned; they looked as if they’d been thrown haphazardly to the side as soon as he entered the room. I turned to face the other way as the shameless bastard started to unbutton his jeans.

     _Please hurry_

     I curled in on myself, hugging my knees to my chest, shaking now that the thunder was close enough and loud enough to physically move my clothes. I was trying to keep from flinging myself out of the bed when the other side sank down beneath Antonio’s weight. Arms once more looped around me and I was waiting to be pulled back into another embrace but was instead lifted into a sitting position.

     I tried to turn a glare at Antonio but the tomato bastard grabbed a hold of the bottom of my shirt and lifted it over my head. When the shirt no longer blocked my sight I noticed the pile of my clothes beside him. “You should probably change too, Lovi.”

     “I can do that myself, bastard,” I growled yanking the new shirt from him and quickly yanking it down in place, taking the moment the shirt covered my face to control my blush. I snatched up the sleep pants and stumbled out of bed. “Look away, dammit,” I snarled as I was undoing my own pants. I quickly shimmied into my sleep pants and threw my old clothes in the general direction of the bathroom. I dove under the covers, forgetting my hesitation in order to cuddle up to Antonio, flinching as my face pressed into warm skin; Antonio never did wear a shirt when he slept.

      I snuggled closer regardless, feeling Antonio’s chest shake as he snickered at me. “Goodnight, my cute little Lovino,” He murmured, tangling us together once again. He pressed a kiss to my hair, as arms cradled my back and fingers traced patterns along my spine. “I love you.”

     My heart squeezed and exploded all at the same time from those words and I couldn’t stop myself from holding onto him even tighter, fingers practically digging into his shoulder blades as I prayed that he was telling the truth.

     _Ti amo troppo_

     “Goodnight, Antonio.”


	11. Ch 10: A Run-In With Turkey OR Why Naps Are Important

* * *

     “Lovi?” Dammit, what did he want now? It was bad enough that he slept pretty much wrapped around me every night (despite my protests) and constantly asked whether I was alright or not or if the nightmares were back, ‘do you want me to hold you tighter, Lovi’? No, now he had to bug me when I was trying to eat breakfast too. I clonked my head down on the kitchen table; maybe if I ignored him, he’d go away.

     “Lovi,” So much for that idea “, don’t we have another World Conference tomorrow?”

      “We just had one a couple months ago, bastard. So no,” I sneered, lifting my head just long enough to cast a disdainful glare his way.

     “What exactly is a World Conference, Romano?” España asked from where he was sitting at the other end of the breakfast table. Oh right, they didn’t have those back during Antonio’s Conquistador days nor during his Armada days.

      “All the countries meet together and _attempt_ to solve current world issues. Basically we meet up so there’s less of a chance we’ll start a third World War – you don’t know what that is either do you?” In unison they shook their heads at me. “Watch the History Channel or something” I grumbled; Spain and España twisted to each other each, inquiring as to what the History Channel was. Did I have to do everything?

     I turned away from them and back to Antonio when he started tugging on my sleeve. “But, Lovi, we didn’t get anything done, so Germany suggested – well not really suggested, just told us that we would be having another one.”

      “I don’t remember hearing that potato bastard say anything,” I growled. He sure as hell better not have scheduled another meeting, the first one had been bad enough.

      “Sure you do, Lovi. Remember, England and France were trying to strangle each other again, so America was trying to stop them while yelling that he was The Hero; Germany was trying to throw Prussia out since he’s not a nation anymore and Feli kept complaining to him about wanting pasta; Sealand also snuck in so England was pretty mad about that but he was too busy dealing with America and France to chase him off; Korea kept trying to claim China’s chest and Russia kept trying to get China to become one with him (da); Belarus was doing whatever it is she does,”  (In other words, being scary beyond all belief)  “, and  Lithuania was trying to get her to calm down; Sweden was trying to keep Denmark away from his wife, I’m not sure why he calls Finland that – ”  I flipped Spain the bird at his loud demand that I become _his_ wife.  “Japan kept trying to take pictures of something, I not really sure of what but Hungary kept giggling; There was some guy that looked like America sitting quietly in the back of the room, but he disappeared if I looked at him directly. Did you see him too, Lovi?”  Dammit, how many times did I have to tell him that was Canada?  “Well, Greece was sleeping – oh – there was this cute little cat sitting on his head and it was asleep too! Can we get a cat, Lovi?!”  Hell no…maybe.  “Austria was looking for a piano so he could express his anger. And I was trying to hug you, but you kept running away, and then I had to chase Turkey off; So Germany – “

      “Dammit, bastard, I was there, okay! It’s hard to forget especially since that happens during every single one of those fucking Conferences! I’m not even sure why our bosses keep forcing us to go to these damn things, it’s not like we get anything done!” I shoved Antonio off when he tried to hug me; I don’t care how many times he tried, he was not going to ‘hug the anger out’ of me. “Look, just tell me when Germany said we would be meeting.”

      “Oh, well, I had just caught up to you and you were hitting me,” Yeah, that sounded about right. “, but that’s okay, I was just happy to hug my little Lovi.”

     “Get to the point, bastard” I snarled, rising to my feet and heading towards the sink, taking both mine and Antonio’s plate with me. So what if he wasn’t done eating?

     “Well Germany got really mad and stopped the meeting and said we’d continue later. Maybe you didn’t hear him, you were yelling at me while he said it.” He tried to grab my wrist. “I wasn’t done with that, Lovi!”

     Shit, I really need to start paying more attention during these meetings. “Where is it this time, bastard?” I dodged his grasping hands. “And yes you are.”

      Antonio sulked. “It’s at America’s again.” Son of a bitch! If we were going to make it there by tomorrow we’d have to leave today; which meant I’d have to rush to pack and then rush Antonio’s lazy ass to the airport. “Please, Lovi, can I have my breakfast back.” Dammit, not the puppy eyes.

      “Hurry up and eat, bastard,” I griped, shoving his plate back at him. “We’re going to have to leave soon – fuck! What are we going to do about those two?” I glared at Spain, not so much at España (even if he was warning me about my language…again). I could _not_ leave these two alone for even a day, much less three. I’d come back and they’d either have killed each other, or my house would be burned to the ground.

      “Can't they just stay here? I’m sure they won’t do anything bad.” Antonio looked and sounded as doubtful of that statement as I felt.

     “Hey! Why does he get to go to this conference and not me?!” Spain pouted. “I am _Spain_ this is a _World_ meeting! Why can’t I go instead of Antonio?”

      “Though I do not believe Spain should go, I do have to question if it is a wise idea to send Antonio with you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t France _and_ Turkey going to be there? Who will protect you?”

     “Neither of you know jack shit about what is going on in Antonio’s economy right now or even what’s going on in the rest of the world. For all I know either of you could see England and attempt to start yet another war during the Conference. Besides, Turkey hasn’t come after me since I was little and if France bothers me I’ll just do what I usually do. Kick him in the nuts and run away.” I turned my back on them and headed towards the sink.

      “Is this true?” España questioned, completely ignoring me. “Does Turkey no longer attempt to steal Romano from us?”

      “Well, umm” Antonio scratched the back of his head. “About that – ”

     “Wait, what!?” I whipped back around; plate still in hand, the sink forgotten. “No, that bastard hasn’t bothered me since I was a colony. So don’t try and convince them I’m in any danger. I haven’t even seen him except at the World Conferences and even then he’s on the other side of the room!”

       “Lovi, that’s because I always chased him off if he got too close to you.” He did what now? “I’ve had to run him off every single Conference, Lovi.”

     “You’ve got to be shitting me. I think I would notice if you and that asshole started a fight at the World Conference” I hissed, dropping the plate in the sink just so I could cross my arms defiantly. “Besides, I _don’t_ need you to protect me” I nodded my head sharply as if to say ‘so there’.

     That probably wasn’t the smartest thing to say. All three of them gave me looks of amused disbelief; Antonio went so far as to snicker. Spain sauntered up to me, grasping my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “My beautiful little Roma, you have no idea just how much you need us do you?”

     España was the next to approach, forcing Spain away before he could feel me up. “Romano, even if you didn’t need us to protect you, I hope you realize we still would.” He took both my hands in his, his thumbs stroking circular patterns on the backs of them. “You are very important to us, and we would do anything to ensure you were safe, that you would not be taken from us.”

     “And what about you, huh?” I growled at Antonio. “Are you going to be crazy overprotective too?” Antonio looked away, refusing to meet my eyes as he nodded.

      “I agree with them, Lovi. You’re so cute I just can't help but want to protect you.”  I groaned; they couldn’t be serious.

     “Look, I don’t need you clowns protecting me, okay? I’ve been stuck ruled by so many nations and empires that I’ve lost count. Of all the time I’ve been alive I’ve only been independent for about an eighth of it, and even so I _still_ have to share my country with my brother. I definitely don’t need you assholes coming in and trying to rule my life _again_. I can take care of myself, I have been since 1861 and I will continue to do so!”

     “We don’t want to rule over you, Lovino – ”

     “Speak for yourself” Spain grumbled. When his counterparts turned glares on him he held his hands up as if to placate them. “What!? If he was under our control again we could protect him better. Besides, if he was ours again he wouldn’t be so far away and we would see our lovely Roma more.”

     España, that bastard, actually looked like he was considering what Spain was saying. I could almost see the wheels in his head turning as he calculated how difficult a war for control of Southern Italy would be. Well I can tell you now; I was going to make it as difficult as possible for those bastards. I stuck my nose in the air, spinning to face away once again and began to wash my plate.

     “You guys cannot invade Romano’s home” Antonio interjected. Finally, someone with sense! I probably should have been terrified that it was Antonio of all people who served as the voice of reason. “Besides, Lovi would only come to resent us” Antonio embraced me from behind. “I could not have my Lovi hate me” He murmured.

      Dammit. “I wouldn’t hate you…bastard,” I grumbled, allowing him to hug me a few moments more before I shrugged him off. “I’d probably rebel against you, but I wouldn’t hate you” I promised looking over my shoulder at him.

      “Fine. We will not invade South Italy.” Spain pouted. However, a smirk was soon to replace that look of disappointment and Spain started to stalk towards me. Something about that walk combined with that sly smirk made me want to run for the hills. I froze up as his hands clasped my hips and pulled so that he was practically molded to my ass. “Not unless he wants us to that is,” He lisped into me ear. I just about dropped to plate I was holding when his hips rocked against me.

     “Ack!” I spun around and held the half washed plate in front of my like a shield. “Stop that, you bastard!” Spain just arched an amused brow at the plate as soap suds slid down it. Okay, maybe turning to face him hadn’t been the best idea I considered as he pressed his hips flush with mine. A slight roll of those hips had me blushing up to my ears and pushing him away into a waiting España’s grip. España proceeded to smack Spain over the back of the head and then shove him towards the archway leading out of the kitchen.

       “L-listen! We can argue about this when I get back, but right now An-Antonio and I have to get ready to leave. I don’t care what you two do while we’re gone but my house better be standing when I return.” With that declaration I retreated from the room, leaving my half washed plate in this sink for one of the tomato bastards to finish cleaning.

* * *

     I dragged my suitcase down the stairs; I can’t believe that I just got here and I already have to repack. Stupid Germany. Stupid World Conference. Stupid Antonio for reminding me of the stupid World Conference that stupid Germany planned. The suitcase clunked on every other step and I couldn’t help but wince at the thought of scratching the floorboards. If I wasn’t so stubborn I might have made Antonio carry the suitcase for me.

     The suitcase was finally dragged down the hallway and into the foyer where Antonio was waiting with his own luggage. The front door was wide open and I could just barely catch a glimpse of the big black car my boss had sent to take us to the airport. Sure it wasn’t a limo but it was better than driving Antonio’s shitty Ibiza there.

     Antonio forced the suitcase out of my hands and carried both his and my luggage out to the car. España stepped towards me as Antonio was leaving. “Romano,” I looked up towards him, not too surprised when he pulled me into a protective hold. “I want you to be safe while you are gone. Sí?”

     I nodded against his chest. “Of course, España, but it’s not like I’m going to get into any trouble, the World Conferences are relatively safe.” I gently nudged him away.

     “I just don’t want you to be hurt, Romano,” He grumbled, petting my hair, no doubt attempting to appease me before I had an angry outburst.

       “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I’ll be fine.” I ducked out of his grip this time. “Don’t get all mushy on me.”

      I made to dart towards the front door. I was halfway there when arms encircled my waist for a second time and Spain started to nuzzle the nape of my neck. “I too want you to be safe, mi tesoro,” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the exposed skin on the back of my neck. His hands didn’t wander too much, one did move to grasp my hand though and I was quickly spun to face him. The one arm was still coiled around me while the other held my hand tight and brought it close to his lips. He placed a kiss first on my palm and then on the back of my hand before holding that hand to his cheek. “I will miss you, mi amado,” He whispered, as he leaned forward to press a kiss to my forehead. He then titled his head down until our foreheads touched so he could brush the tip of his nose up mine. “Will you miss me too, mi corazón?”

      “I-I-um. I – ” He chuckled at my stutters and quickly kissed the side of my jaw, just beneath my ear.

     “I’ll take that as a yes, cariño.” He dropped both hands to my sides “You had better get going, Roma. The sooner you leave, the sooner you will come back to me” He used to grip on my sides to spin me around towards the door. He lightly pushed me in that direction and gave me a slap across the ass as if to give me a jumpstart. I quickly scurried to the door, glaring at him over my shoulder.

     Noticing España’s murderous glare I decided to quickly set down some rules. “While I’m gone do not burn down the house or wreck it in any way. Do not do anything to freak out my neighbors; I don’t want to come home and find out you bastards are in jail and I have to bail you out. One of you at least try to water my tomato garden. Do not leave the property unless you absolutely have to. If France or Prussia or anyone shows up, not that I expect them to since they will probably be at the meeting, but regardless, do not let them in. If the phone rings – the phone is that handle looking thing that’s attached to the box on the wall by a spiral cord; I explained this  to you two last week – if it rings, don’t pick it up, just leave it alone. Most importantly do not kill each other. There better still be two tomato bastards here, Antonio not included, when I return, you got that?”

       “Ah, Roma, you care about my safety,” Spain cooed. “Worry not; I will make sure to be here when you get home, mi amante, and to greet you accordingly” He purred; the somewhat lust-glazed look that accompanied that promise did not escape my notice.

     “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming, Spain.” I waved at them over my shoulder. “Make sure to lock up as soon as I’m gone,” I directed at España. “Antonio and I should be back in two to three days.” Why did I feel like I was talking to children? “Remember, don’t kill each other or anyone else for that matter.”

       The chorused their assurances before yelling out demands that I be kept safe and in Spain’s case his impatience for my return. I was quick to get in the car and shut the door on their nagging.

     “Please get us to the airport,” I told the driver my boss had sent. He gave a quick, ‘as you wish, Mr. Vargas’ indicating that he was not one of the handful of humans that were aware of whom I really was. As we pulled out of the drive way I could see España shut the front door.

     Luckily my house was only a thirty(ish) minute drive to the Fiumicino International Airport, but I suppose that was one of the advantages of living along the coast away from the city. On the downside I’d have to listen to whatever inane thing popped into Antonio’s head for the next thirty or so minutes; I still hadn’t recovered from that damn road trip from hell.

     I would have, but Antonio was oddly…quiet. He just stared out the window with this contemplative look. Just like all the times before when Antonio actually looked like he was thinking hard about something I thought of telling him not to strain himself. What instead came out was a soft, “Are you alright, Antonio?” Dammit! I should not have sounded so concerned, now he’s just going to cuddle me or something.

     “Hmm? Oh, n-nothing, Lovi!” He gave me a bright grin, but for once the smile didn’t reach his eyes. I probably should push and try to find out what was bugging the tomato-bastard, but I let the lie slide. If he wanted to tell me, he’d tell me.

     “Whatever, bastard,” I grumbled, looking out my own window now. The rest the car ride was spent in silence, as was the walk into the airport for the most part. Even the process of getting on the plane was unusually quiet. Though I suppose that may have more to do with the fact that my boss called ahead and they had an area roped off specifically for Antonio and I so we could board the plane no questions asked and no ridiculous security measures. That was always a relief; walking straight through unhindered rather than trying to explain to the workers behind the desk why you didn’t have a passport, why any identification you did have was hundreds of years old, and why your personal information didn’t show up in any database. Sure it made things difficult in everyday situations, but for attending to country, or half-a-nation, business it was a timesaver.

     It didn’t take long for the two of us to be sitting in first class on the first flight to New York. Antonio seemed to have gotten over whatever it was that was bugging him because as soon as we were sat down he started to ramble about how happy he was that he got to sit beside ‘his little tomato’.

     “Lovi, what do you want to do once we get to New York?” I rolled my eyes. “I mean after we check in. The Conference won’t be till tomorrow, so we have all day to just hang out if you want! Oh! We could take a walk or if you want we could just stay in our room and watch a movie!”

      “Antonio, we’re not going to have the same room. We all have our own room, remember? Besides, it’s going to be late by the time we get there to do anything, plus we’ll be too tired.”

      “That’s not true, Lovi! It’s only a nine hour flight, plus we left around ten so we should be there by seven. That should give us plenty of time to do something.”

       “I didn’t know you could do simple math” I sniped. “I was hoping you’d be stupid enough to take my word for it.”

        “Well, also with the time zone difference, Lovi, it’ll only be one over there when we arrive.” I stared disbelievingly at him.

       “Quit it, bastard! You’re starting to freak me out!” I tried to edge away from him but he just slung an arm around my shoulder and pulled me back. “I don’t care if it will be only one when we arrive, I’ll still be damn tired so there!”

       He pouted. “Oh, okay, Lovi” He perked up as if he got an idea. “I know! We could take a nap together like we usually do. It’ll be just like when we take a siesta together.”

         “I just told you that we have separate rooms, bastard. We’re not going to take a nap together.”

      “But, Lovi –” I glared at him to stop the whining before it could really start. “Oh, alright, Lovi” He grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. I shook my head. Stupid, whiney, childish bastard.

      “Fine, _maybe_ we can go get dinner together after we take a nap, okay?” Damn, pouty dumbass. I really need to figure out a way to resist that kicked puppy look of his.

      He practically squealed his happiness and once again wound his arms around me. “Oh, thank you, Lovi! We can take a nap together first thing, then we’ll go to dinner, and then maybe take a walk around a park or – .”

       “Dammit, I didn’t agree to any of that – and I never said we would be taking a nap _together_.” He continued to squeeze me and babble about his plans. The more that asshole talked, the more he made it sound like a date. Shit, I hope that none of the other nations see us, I don’t need to encourage their rumors that Antonio and are in love or some other stupid shit like that. “Are you even listening to me, bastard!?”

       “Ah, so cute.” Dammit, why do I even try to argue? In the end he’s just going to get his way and I'll be forcibly dragged around with him.

* * *

      “Ladies and Gentlemen: We have just landed at the John F. Kennedy International Airp….Welcome to New York City! For your safety, please remain seat…Please do not remove your carry-on bag…refrain from using your cellph…we hope to see you again soon on one of yo..."

     In an attempt to block out the annoying woman’s voice, I snuggled deeper into the warmth I was leaning on. So damn comfortable. I’d be damned if this was the most comfortable pillow I’d ever had. I mean, shit, this thing even hugged back! So wonderful. Why didn’t I have a pillow like this back at – wait a second. Pillows don’t hug back. They most certainly don’t have a heartbeat. I slowly dragged my eyes open, worried about what I was going to see. The first thing my eyes were drawn to was the bright red fabric that covered whatever I was resting against. The only red pillow I had was tomato shaped so this wasn’t it. I reluctantly tilted my head up. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

     I had seen this sleeping face thousands of times, the lazy bastard could sleep just about anywhere, but I’m not sure I’d ever seen it this close. He lips were slightly parted, his normally chocolate colored curls looked like bronze in the sunlight, and his face was relaxed into a peaceful expression. I don’t remember ever seeing Antonio look so peaceful. He sleeps beside me almost all the damn time, how had I not noticed ‘til now?

     Arms tightened around me and Antonio started to mumble about ‘cute tomatoes’. It was then I realized my hand had been sneaking up to touch his check. I jerked my hand back as if bitten.  What the hell was that about?! Sure the bastard looked unusually handsome right now – I mean, uh, he’s always handsome, but – No, wait! That’s not what I meant! He-he didn’t look quite as ugly as he usually did – Ah fuck it; he looked pretty damn good right now.

     I might need to get my brain checked soon, there is obviously something wrong with me. I mean look! I’m still freaking curled up around him – shit! I’m still curled up around him!

      I shoved against him to propel myself away. Unfortunately, the only thing that accomplished was to wake Antonio, his arms were like a steel cage so I’d barely moved more than a couple inches before I was pulled right back. Antonio’s eyes darted to check our surroundings, his arm constricting around me until he fully woke up and offered me a happy grin. “Lovi!” He cuddled me close, pressing his cheek against mine “Are we almost there?” He asked, looking out the window beside him (I’m not sure why I let him have the window seat).

      “How should I know, bastard? I was asleep too.” I grumbled, trying futilely to remove his arms from around me. “Let go” I tried pushing against his chest but he wouldn’t budge, he just shook his head stubbornly. “I think the flight attendant said we’d be arriving in the JFK airport soon, now let go so we can get ready to land, you dumbass!”

      “Oh, alright, Lovi” He gradually released his hold and as soon as I was able to I jerk away to sit upright in my own seat. “I’m still tired, Lovi. As soon as we check in can we – .” The way he scrunched up his eyes to yawn was in no way whatsoever cute. Not at all. “- Can we take a nap together.”

      “I already said we could, Antonio” I blushed as I fastened my seatbelt into place. I had to elbow Antonio to get him to fasten his. “God! Quit asking questions you already know the answer to. Just shut up until we get out of here” The dopey grin he gave in response to my angry snarls made me want to punch him in the face. Or lock him out of my hotel room after we checked in.

     Antonio, for once, obediently kept his mouth shut as we were ushered out of the plane and then out of the terminal until we were finally out in the street where a taxi was already waiting for us. I should probably thank my boss for remembering to plan all of this. We were soon piled into the back seat of the taxi, Antonio had his head pressed to the glass, surprisingly enough not to look out, but to nap against. I’m not sure why the happy bastard became jet lagged so easily; I hate to think how irritable Spain or España would be after a plane ride (assuming I could actually get España on a plane).

     I must have drifted to sleep again because it didn’t seem all that long until the taxi driver was ordering us out of his cab. The hotel rented out for the World Conference was pretty damn impressive I must admit. They even had freaking bell hops and door men out front. I think I even spotted a valet or two. I hurried Antonio inside and to the front desk where I gave the receptionist our human names as well as a wink; Antonio slung an arm around my waist as soon as the receptionist started to giggle. He looked just as perplexed as I did at the action, but the receptionist just flushed, stuttered out an apology to Antonio (fuck if I know why), and practically flung our room keys at us.

     “Ha-have a nice s-stay!” She called after us on our way to the elevator; she looked as if she wanted to sink into the floor.

     “What the hell was that about, Antonio?” I hissed as soon as the elevator doors pressed behind us. I leaned forward to press the button for the fifteenth floor. We went up two floors before he answered.

     “I don’t know, Lovi. She just shouldn’t have been looking at you like that.” I stared quietly at him as we went up four more floors, the quiet ding as we passed each floor reminding me of how much longer I’d be stuck in here with this tomato-bastard. He must have realized how little sense that made, “Well, what I mean is that, um…aren’t you and S-Spain together?”

     “Where the fuck did you get that idea?! Plus you’re also Spain in case you forgot” I growled. Three more floors. “What would possibly make you think that that horny pirate-bastard and I are together!?”

     “Well, just the way he kissed you goodbye this morning, and you-you never look at me like that.” What in the hell was he talking about. I didn’t look at Spain any differently than I did the others.

     “You saw that – never mind, for your information he did not kiss me and I have no idea what you are talking about when you say I _look_ at him differently” I snarled hand on my hips. This interaction took five more floors.

     “Well, um, it’s like, uh – ” DING! “Oh look, we’re here!” He darted out of the elevator. Oh no, he was not getting away with that. I chased him down; I would _always_ be faster than that bastard. I grabbed the back of his shirt and prevented him from swiping the room key to his room.

      “Looking at him like what,” I rumbled, my advancing steps forcing his retreating ones to the door. If the bastard wasn’t so much taller than me, it might have looked intimidating. “Just answer the question, Antonio.”

     “You look at him kind of how he looks at you.” Say what? I do _not_ watch him like he’s a steak and I’m a starving man. I most certainly did not return _those_ looks. “He’s-he’s closer to you than I am, Lovi” He bowed his head. “I just…he’s always around you and I feel…”

      I thought I was the one with the insecurity issues. “Dammit, Antonio, Spain just wants me for, um… _that_. He doesn’t care about me and I most certainly don’t like him in _that_ way. You’re my b-best friend, Antonio, why would you even care if I was interested in him that way?”

     His brow wrinkled and he cocked his head to one side, gaining that serious thinking look he had on earlier this morning. Was this what he was worrying about? The tip of his pink tongue stuck out like it did whenever he was trying to solve a problem. “I don’t know?” Whatever, I didn’t have the patience to deal with dumbass Spaniards. “You’re just my friend. So it shouldn’t matter!” He cheered as if he had found the cure for the common cold or some other difficult shit like that.

     “Exactly, now let’s go take a nap, okay? I’m tired. We can go for dinner later if you want.” I stole the card right out of Antonio’s hand and opened his room. He beamed, shutting the door behind him as he entered, before diving onto the bed. As soon as I dropped down beside him he almost plastered himself to my form. I sighed “Good night, confusing bastard.”

* * *

     That night I had convinced Antonio to sleep in his own room even though the bastard had whined and pled to be allowed to sleep in my room I was adamant about this. When the other nations finally arrived I didn’t want them getting any completely incorrect ideas. That and I knew that the first thing France and Prussia would do is seek out their Spanish friend in order to complete their dumbass trio. The next thing they’d do is drag him out to hit all the local bars and trust me when I say I did not want to be dragged into that.

     My refusal hadn’t stopped Antonio from standing outside my door for nearly an hour, whining and begging to be let in; he had been there since we returned from dinner. I’d actually gotten a call from the front desk asking if I wanted security to come remove the man from my door. When I told them ‘No, I know that dumbshit’, they told me to let my boyfriend inside, ‘He’s disturbing the other guests’. I had yelled into the receiver that he was ‘not my fucking boyfriend!’ but all I’d gotten was a disbelieving snort before they hung up.

     Disturbing the other guests. Please, what other guests? This whole floor and the one beneath it were reserved for the visiting nations. Most of them weren’t here yet, and if they were they were bound to be outside since it wasn’t all that late. No matter what the case may be I decided to take pity on Antonio; it _was_ kind of cruel to leave him sitting out there all night.

     I slowly opened my door, leaving the chain lock in place so that the door only opened a crack. I glared out at Antonio. “Go to your own room, bastard. People are trying to sleep” I whispered “I already got a call from the front desk telling me to shut you up. Now piss off.”

     “But, Lovi, I just want to be close to you” Anyone watching this must have thought either I was a complete asshole or Antonio was some creepy stalker…which he sort of was but I digress. “We’ve been sleeping next to each other for the past month now; I can’t sleep without you near.”

      “Bullshit, you can sleep just about anywhere, at any time” I hissed. “Just go to your own room, I’ll see you in the morning.” He used his foot to block the door when I attempted to shut it. “Antonio,” I growled in warning. “I will see you tomorrow” I ground out slowly, trying to shove his foot away from the door.

     I finally slammed to door shut on him, fully expecting him to keep bugging me, but all I heard was a sigh and then a quiet “Goodnight, Lovi” before his footsteps echoed away from my door.

     I would _not_ feel bad about this, I told myself as I crawled into my own bed. That damn thing seemed too big and too cold. “Dammit, pull it together, Vargas! You’ve been sleeping alone for decades now (No, the times Feliciano would sneak into my bed didn’t count)!” I’ll admit that I wasn’t very good at convincing myself, but I curled up, knees nearly tucked up to my chest, as I tried to go to sleep.

* * *

     I really should have let that bastard sleep in my bed, I considered as I stumbled into the Conference room. I hadn’t slept more than a handful of minutes last night. Whenever I _had_ fallen asleep I was plagued by nightmares. Even if Nonno hadn’t appeared in them they were still horrifying. When the fuck had it become necessary to share a bed with someone? Hell, it didn’t even have to be Antonio! Just someone to make the bed feel warmer. Safer.

     Speaking of the tomato bastard, I hadn’t seen him this morning. I had shuffled, eyes half open to his room in order to wake him (bastard would sleep the day away if you let him) only to find he had vacated the room earlier this morning to hang out with those douchebag friends of his.

     Fully expecting everyone to stare at my disheveled hair, twisted clothes, and the dark circles that were bound to be under my eyes, I wandered over to my chair (Antonio on the left, Canada on the right, and Feliciano across from me). The only ones who actually seemed to notice me were the aforementioned dipshits. Dammit, I was beginning to feel like Canada; I suppose at the moment that wasn’t such a bad thing.

     As soon as I slumped down into my seat, head all but crashing down onto the tabletop, Antonio placed a warm hand on my back. The warmth would have had me asleep in seconds were it not for the persistent voice in my ear. “Lovi? Mi tomate, are you okay?” The hand on my back started to stroke up and down. “You look awful” Gee, thanks. “What happened? Did you have another nightmare? See, I told you you should have let me sleep next to – ”

     I sluggishly slapped a hand over his mouth, barely mustering the strength to lift my head and offer him a baleful glare. “I’m fine, bastard. I’m just really tired. I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

      “See, this is why you should have let me in” He muttered, his hand drifting up to run his fingers through my hair now, putting it into some sort of order while lulling me back to sleep. “Oh, my poor tomato.” I would have flipped him off if I could coordinate my hands enough to do so, I really would have. “If you want, you can nap during the Conference, I’ll cover for you.”

      I shook my head, consequentially removing the hand from my head. “You don’t know shit about what’s going on, Antonio” I grumbled. “Neither does Feliciano, I have to be awake in case something important comes up” Not that anything important ever came up. If it did, Greece would be utterly screwed.

     “If you’re sure, Lovi, but as soon as this Conference is over I am taking you back to your room and you are going to take a nap and you are not going to kick me out.” I just nodded, too exhausted to process just what exactly I was agreeing to.

     I came to realize I had broken my promise to stay awake when Antonio started to shake my shoulder. “What?” I whined, trying to shift away from him. If Antonio had wanted me to wake up he probably should have stopped petting my hair.

      “Lovi, it’s time for lunch break. Come on, I’ll get you something to eat, tomate” He soothed, still petting my hair. Shit, it was that late already? “Please wake up, Lovi. If you don’t I’ll…um….I’ll pull your hair curl.”

       “Like hell you will, bastard!” I snarled, jerking into an upright position and slapping his hands away from my hair. I tried to pay no heed to the curious eyes of the other nations as they turned to see the source of the sudden outburst; as soon as they realized it was (as usual) just Antonio and I they all turned back to their own conversations and lunch plans.

     “I knew that would wake you up” Antonio beamed, hooking his arms under my armpits and lifting me out of the chair, all while disregarding my snarls.

     “Dammit, quit treating me like I’m still a kid, Antonio” I flailed ineffectively. Once I was on my feet, and Antonio seemed sure I wouldn’t sway and fall over, he let go.

     “You still haven’t told me what that hair curl does, Lovi,” He complained, staring at said hair curl. He reached out a hand as if to touch it but was quickly slapped away.

      “Don’t even think about it, bastard” I warned. “Let’s just go to lunch, sí?” We started towards the double doors leading out of the Conference room when a flash of blond caught my eye. I twisted so fast I almost gave myself whiplash.

     England.

     Now usually at the first sight of England I would dive behind Antonio and use him as a (somewhat) human shield, always making sure he was in between me and the island nation. You know, just in case England ever decided for some odd reason that he wanted to attack me. Not today though. Today, I had to see if he was involved in what happened to Antonio (which he probably was) and have him fix this.

     I flinched as England turned to look at me. Well, not at me, but through me and at Antonio. He studied Antonio for the longest time, a look of disappointment slowly overtaking his face.

     It was now or never. I had to get over there and confront the eyebrow bastard before America swept in and stole him off to lunch.

     “Wait a sec, Antonio. We can go in a minute, I have to go talk to…someone” I headed away from Antonio before he could answer and did my best to lose him in the crowd (a skill I’ve developed over the years). I looked towards my target; England was still glaring at Antonio who was staring after me with confusion.

     He was just a few yards away from me and I was mustering my courage to call out for his attention when a hand wrapped around my wrist. I turned around to growl threats at Antonio but the white mask instead of bright green eyes that entered my sight made my heart drop out of my chest.

     “Tu-Turkey!” I tried to jerk away from him, but his grip tightened painfully. “Ow, bastard! Let go!” Dammit, why did the tomato-bastard have to be right? I had really hoped that Turkey was done chasing me.

     “Please, Lovino, we've known each other for so long. Call me, Sadiq” The words may have been polite, but the not so hidden threat in his tone made me shiver.

     “Dammit, Turkey, leave me alone. I’ve got to go talk to someone who’s not as much of a waste of space as you” Shit! Where had that come from? From the near crushing hold that Turkey now had I could safely say I had not only crossed the line but fucking stomped on it as well. Forget talking to England, I needed Antonio.

      I spun around so I could call out to Antonio. Seems like I didn’t have to, the green eyed man was already making his way through the crowd, edging nations aside when he needed to. I called out anyways, maybe that would scare Turkey off.

     “ **Antonio!** ” The sudden cry had a handful of nations looking towards us and had Antonio picking up his pace. Turkey’s grasp loosened marginally at the sight of Antonio and I was sure I was out of danger.

      The closer Antonio got though, the smugger the smirk on Turkey’s face came to be. “Something is different about your precious Spain, Lovino” He murmured, more for himself than for me. “He doesn’t seem quite as…dangerous. Has something changed, Lovino?” The grip tightened once more.

     “Ah, Antonio, how wonderful to see you again” I’m sure he meant anything but that, but the sneer on his face gave away his feelings on its own.

     “Sadiq, let go of my Lovino” He growled. Usually when Antonio growls out a threat Turkey, well just about everyone, runs off to find someone else to pester on the other side of the fucking world. The only problem was that Antonio’s growl wasn’t anywhere near as threateningly psychotic as it used to be. Maybe I _should_ have taken Spain and España with me, I’m sure their threats would have scared Turkey right off –

      Dammit, why didn’t I realize this? Ever since he was split in three Antonio was nowhere near as strong as he was when he was one person. There was no way he could scare off Turkey on his own. I think the worst thing about this situation was that I realized I actually needed all three of those bastards. Shit, could today suck anymore?

     Turkey grinned down at Antonio. “So what happened to you, huh?” Turkey jerked on my arm to try and get me behind his back; blocking me from Antonio. The move was foolish, it put him in range. I think he had just started to realize that when my forehead slammed into the bridge of his nose. He let go of my wrists in order to clutch at the damage. If there was one thing I was good at, it was breaking bastards’ noses.

     I grabbed onto Antonio’s arm and tried to pull him away. Unfortunately Turkey recovered faster that Antonio would from a headbutt like that. He grabbed for my elbow this time, snarling at me as he advanced, “You little brat!” I got ready to turn around and kick him in the balls too.

     “Sadiq, leave those two alone. You have caused enough trouble for them.” I jerked around to face the interloper almost as fast as Turkey did.

     “Stay out of this, Herakles!” He hissed, but let go of me all the same. “You don’t have any business in this.” I decided it would be a good idea to get out of here, so I grabbed onto Antonio again and pulled him out of the Conference room, leaving Greece and Turkey to fight it out.

     “Let’s go get something to eat, Antonio. Today’s going to be a long day” He just nodded and grasped my hand as we walked out of the hotel to find the nearest diner.

* * *

     España paced back and forth in the lobby. There was something wrong, he knew it! He could feel it in his very skin. Something or someone had hurt Romano. _His_ Romano. If he were there with Romano he would kill the scum that dared to touch his colony – no, Romano wasn’t his colony anymore. He was his…his amorcito?

       Yes, that sounded about right. Very odd, yes, but also very right. When he fell for his pequeno he wasn’t sure. Last he saw Romano he had been a small child. Much too young for that kind of love. That had all changed the moment he saw this new Romano. This not-so-graceful but still beautiful creature that put all others to shame.

     And his beautiful little amor was in danger right now. He should be there! He shouldn’t have let that idiot part of himself go off alone with his fragile, defenseless Romano. Perhaps that was an over exaggeration, but that didn’t stop him from kicking himself over letting Romano go without someone to protect him. Even Spain would have been a better choice to protect Romano than Antonio!

      “I want my Romano back,” He snarled as he looked for something breakable to throw. Romano’s rules be damned. He had to destroy something this very instant to keep him from running off to the (not so) New World and hunting down his dear Romano. To keep him from dragging Romano home and locking him up for years to come, never letting any other nations anywhere near his little one. To keep him from –

     “Yes, we both want our Roma back, but snarling and raging about it isn’t going to bring him back any faster” Spain interjected from where he leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, one knee bent so he could rest his foot on the frame.

        “I know that, Spain” He sighed sinking down into the armchair, resting his head in his hands. “It’s only been a day and I miss him already” He looked up at this pirate counterpart who seemed to be handling the separation better than he was; in other words, he sprawled himself out on the couch, pressing buttons on that thing Romano called a remote. He had figured out how to work the tele…television-thing sometime yesterday.

      “Sí, amigo. I miss that feisty little Italian of ours too. I just want to hold him again” He lamented, looking down at the remote before shutting off the television entirely. “I think I’m going to go water Romano’s tomato garden. Wouldn’t want him mad that he let his plants die while he was away.”

     España sighed before placing his hands on his knees and forcing himself up onto his feet. “I think I will help you, it’ll help keep my mind of this worry” He followed after the pirate, Romano still on his mind. “Spain,” He waited until the other stopped to look at him before continuing “, do you also feel as if something is wrong?”

     Spain shrugged. “Romano may look weak, but he’s strong when he needs to be. I’m sure that whatever happens he can take care of himself. He’s not as weak as the Romano we knew. Besides, wimp or no, Antonio will do all he can to protect our amado.”

      España hummed noncommittally. “Speaking of our older counterpart,” Spain smirked as if he knew what the other was about to say. Then again, considering they were essentially the same person they probably were. “, why is it so hard for him to accept Romano?”

     “I do not know, but it is annoying me. It’s not like I want the competition or anything, but his obliviousness is hurting our little love” Spain grumbled, rotating his shoulders. “Besides, the way I figure it, we’re all the same man, so who’s to say we can’t share him?”

      España glared back at him. “I agree that we have to open Antonio’s eyes since I will not let his thoughtless comments hurt my Romano any further, but I would rather not share him with the likes of you.”

      “Ow, harsh, España” The grin clearly displayed that for the moment there was no hard feelings. “No matter, let’s just wait for Roma to come home before we think too seriously about this.” España considered this offer before nodding his agreement.

      “Very well, besides, whatever danger Romano was in seems to be over, I no longer have that sinking feeling.”

     Spain winced, “Can we not talk about sinking” He grumbled. “Damned eyebrows.” He stomped off. “Sunk my armada. If I ever see that asshole again I’ll rip those caterpillars off his face” España watched him head out the garden. Maybe it _was_ a good idea that Romano hadn’t brought them.

* * *

    Thank God! The Conference was over and I could finally go back to my hotel room and sleep the rest of the day (almost-night) away. That meeting had taken way too long, and it seemed even longer right now since everyone, Antonio included (that bastard) was wandering around and socializing.

    I stood with my arms crossed, beside Antonio as he talked about some unimportant shit with Austria. Hate that bastard, the only reason I was standing here now was that I was waiting for Antonio. Don’t ask me why I was waiting for him, I just was.

     It had occurred to me while I was staring at Sweden trying to grab a hold of Finland’s hand that Antonio hadn’t tried to hold my hand even once during the Conference. Usually I needed a stick or something to beat him off but today he had kept his hands mostly to himself. He had reached a few times to grab my hand, but every time, right before he made contact, he would pull back.

     It was actually starting to freak me out. He’d usually just hang off of me. What had changed that he didn't do that anymore? He hugged me all the time at home. Did this have something to do with being separate people now? Spain would have no doubt molested me by now, witnesses or no.

      Before accusations are thrown around I did not grab on to Antonio’s hand because I missed the affection. I did so for a sense of…normalcy. That and he had started heading over to my idiot brother and if those two started talking it would be forever until I got back to my hotel room and the nice warm bed. It was not because I was jealous.

    Antonio jolted, nearly tripping, as my fingers laced through his. He looked down at me, his cheek flushing just the slightest shade of pink. “L-lovi?” He questioned, looking at me as if I’d grown a second head.

     “Don’t make a big deal of it, bastard” I grumbled, puffing out my cheeks and looking anywhere but at him. This meant that I was looking at the rest of the room where quite a few nations were giving me startled looks. No doubt most of them were wondering why I’d decided to openly show affection for Antonio. Well, as I already explained, I was just trying to get him to leave and not talk to my dumbass of a brother. Besides, it wasn’t like I hadn’t held Antonio’s hand before at one of these Conferences. It’s just Antonio had initiated everything. Hand holding was rather tame in comparison to the smothering hugs and forehead kisses Antonio usually gave me.

      “Let’s go, Antonio” I pulled him away. Feliciano was watching us leave; for once his eyes fully open, expressing his shock as he saw our linked hands. One corner of his mouth lifted up into a smile, before he practically leapt on Germany and started jabbering excitedly about something. I should probably have been worried about Feliciano since the mere fact that he fully opened his eyes was suspicious enough to start planning for some kind of crazy ass scheme, but I was more concerned with the crazy woman giggling over us just a few yards away. Japan stood dutifully by her side with a camera trained on us, which clicked every few seconds.

      “Hurry, before Hungary does something weirder than usual,” I urged, pulling Antonio towards and then out the double doors. He grinned and squeezed my fingers, turning around to offer a wave to Hungary even though I attempted to slap his arm back down. “Shit, we have to make it to the elevator before Hungary can catch up. Do you honestly want her and her bloody tissues following us around and asking us to do…weird things with each other?”

      Antonio quickly shook his head. “No! I’m sorry, Lovi. I was just being polite. I completely forgot how crazy Elizaveta is. Look, there’s the elevator!” He ushered me in and pressed the close door button. I unconsciously squeezed Antonio’s hand tighter as the doors slowly shut on the advancing Hungary. Oh god, we weren’t going to make it. She was going to catch up and pry open those doors with her freakish strength and then force Antonio and I to make out right here right now in this elevator and then –

     The doors slid shut, hiding Hungary from view. “Thank God! We escaped!” I cried, surprising myself by wrapping my arms around Antonio’s shoulders in a celebratory hug. I quickly jerked away and stood rigidly by his side as we waited for the elevator to reach the fifteenth floor. I probably should have let go of his hand but you know Antonio, as soon as those elevator doors opened he’d probably wander off. Or we could stop on the wrong floor and he could mistakenly walk off…What!? It’s possible!

     The elevator dinged signaling our arrival on the fifteenth floor. Antonio led me away from the elevator and towards my room. “Let’s go to sleep, Lovi. I know you’re tired.” I know I had sort of promised to let Antonio sleep with me tonight (not in that way, you damn perverts), but now that he (and the other nations) were here, I was reconsidering things.

     “Don't worry about what the others think, Lovi. You and I both know we’re just good friends” He frowned momentarily but it was gone and replaced by a soft smile so fast I wasn’t even sure it had been there in the first place. “I know you had a hard time sleeping without me there, Lovi. You had nightmares right?” I shrugged, but Antonio knew the truth.

     “I may not have had trouble sleeping last night, but I did miss having my little Lovi in my arms as I slept. It was too cold without you, mi tomate.”  I grimaced at the pet name, but let Antonio follow me into the room after I swiped the keycard.

     “Fine,” I mumbled, shutting the door behind him and walking towards the bed, “you can sleep here” I slipped off my slacks, and started to unbutton my dress shirt. I got about halfway before my arms felt like they were made of lead and I just crawled into the bed too tired to care if I wore pajamas or not.

     Antonio looked like he wanted to comment on my current choice of sleepwear but wisely stripped off his own dress pants and shirt before crawling in, clad only in boxers and socks, after me and slipping an arm under me so that my head came to rest in the crook of his neck just on his shoulder.

     I wanted to complain about the intimate position but as soon as my head touched warm skin and my nose caught the familiar scent that was Antonio, which automatically made me feel safe, I conked out. The world may as well have been dead to me, and I to it, since the last thing I was aware of before sleeping was wrapping my arms around Antonio and hooking a leg over his as he enveloped me completely. 

* * *

 

     I yawned. That sleep had been amazing; I don’t think I’d slept that well since, well, since before we left on this stupid trip. Dammit, I really was becoming dependent on Antonio; even though I had sworn I could stand on my own and didn’t need those three ruling me.

     I tried to locate where exactly I was, and when I did, let me tell you now, I was not happy. Sometime during the night he or I or bother of us had rolled over; which meant I now found myself entirely sprawled out on top of Antonio, my arms folded under my head and resting on his rising and falling chest. Probably the most embarrassing thing about this position was that Antonio’s hand had come to rest on my lower back. And I _mean_ my lower back. And by that I meant that were he to reach even a few centimeters further he would have a handful of my ass. Since I was wearing boxers and a half button dress shirt, I can tell you now, that was _beyond_ awkward.

     Of course the bastard would be clueless to it all and just snooze away. I know I had been too tired to change last night, but if I have known I’d wake up like _this_ on top of a shirtless, boxer clad Spaniard you can bet your ass I would have somehow find the energy to change clothes. At the least, I would have ordered Antonio to put some damn clothes on.

     “Mmm, ‘s bright” He mumbled, shifting just slightly beneath me, and drawing my attention back up to his face. He yawned, lifting that hand that had been strewn off to the side to rub at his eyes. He cracked one eye open and looked down at me. “Ah, Buenos dias, mi tomate” He cooed, dropping his arm back down, this time resting it near the other on my lower back; thankfully not as close to my ass as the other hand.

     I probably should have made my escape while I could but now I was stuck here on this lazy bastard until he decided to relinquish his hold. “How are you this morning, Lovi” He dragged his fingers along my back, caressing me through the dress shirt.

     “…” I pushed myself up onto my elbows and stared down at his smiling face, his eyes still had that sleepy glazed look and probably would for another hour or two. “I’m fine,” I stammered trying to stifle a yawn of my own as well as a blush. “We’re going to have to leave soon, Antonio. We need to get home and make sure the others haven’t killed each other.”

     He made a low whining sound and tightened his grip on my sides to pull me back down against him. “Not yet, Lovi. It’s still too early.” I titled my head up to glare at him for a few moments.

       He gave me those damn puppy eyes. “Alright, fine! One more hour, but as soon as we wake up again we’re going to have to rush our asses to the airport.” He nodded quickly a happy grin taking up his face. He then squeezed me close and rolled, flipping me so that my back was to him and he was pretty much spooning me.

      You know what. What-the-fuck-ever. He’s just going to cuddle with me like this whether I yelled at him or not, so why struggle? I was _not_ going to be spooned though, so I rolled over to face him. And, so what if I did wrap my arms around him too? 

* * *

 

     The airplane ride home had been pretty uneventful, I’d actually managed to stay awake this time and watch a couple of those stupid in-flight movies that Antonio had just loved. Other than that I spent most of my time tapping on my thigh and bouncing my knee, too worried about what I might find once I got home. Please, don’t let them have burned my house down. I did not want to have to go back to the house Feliciano and I once shared. It would be so difficult to hide the three-tomato bastards at my brother’s house.

     I stepped into my home. Sure it may not have been as big as the old home I shared with Feliciano and it most certainly wasn’t anywhere near as fucking gigantic as Antonio’s house, but it was my house and it was good to be back. Besides, it was big enough for me and all three of the tomato bastards to live in comfortably with room to spare so what else did I need? Well, other than putting them back together again –

     Shit! I forgot completely about England. Dammit to hell, what was I going to do – Wait! Maybe I could call him. It wouldn’t be too hard to find his number. The only problem is that all three of the tomato bastards hate eyebrow bastard so they’ll never let me call him. I’m surprised I even got that close to him at the Conference yesterday. Had either España or Spain been with me I wouldn’t have even been able to take a step towards him.

     Oh well, I’m sure I’ll figure something out. I was just too happy to be home right now to fret about England. I opened my front door, Antonio right at my heels. “Hey, bastards! I’m home. Where are you?” I called out, starting to panic when I didn’t receive a reply. Fuck! What if they actually killed each other! What was I going to do?! Antonio would never get back to normal, and it would be impossible to hide the bodies, what –

     “ **Roma?** ”

     “ **Romano!”**

Oh shit!

     Two sets of feet thundered through the house growing louder as they grew closer. Spain practically tripped down the stairs the same time that España slid around the living room corner. They both stopped and stared as if reassuring themselves that it was really me standing there. They weren’t immobile for long though.

     Let me tell you, being tackled by not one, but two overjoyed Spaniards hurts like a bitch. Especially when the third decides that looks like fun and joins in. Didn’t that just scream ‘welcome home’.


	12. Ch 11: A Hungarian Visitor

* * *

     Somehow, someway, I had managed to get through yesterday unscathed. Not for lack of trying on the tomato bastards’ part though. Whenever I thought I got away, either Spain or España would get a hold of me. If España caught me he’d check me over for injuries, convinced I had somehow managed to hurt myself in the past few minutes since he had last checked me over. When Spain caught me he would just latch on and refuse to let go unless I called out to España for help; which didn’t happen often since by now his over protective actions were beginning to feel like molestation.

     I probably shouldn’t say that I escaped yesterday unscathed since somehow, when I wasn’t paying enough attention, Spain had managed to catch me and leave a fresh hickey on the bend of my neck.

    Antonio after the original tackle to the floor had wisely chosen to leave me mostly alone. He just let his counterparts hug me and reassure me how much they’d missed me. He didn’t even get a chance to get all too close to me when I finally collapsed into my bed that night since Spain and España had refused to let me out of their sight. What this meant was that I had ended up with three Spaniards curled up in my bed arguing over who got to sleep closest to me. In the end I was sandwiched between Spain and España while Antonio slept near the edge with his back pressed to Spain’s.

     Though I can’t say I slept well since I was constantly worried that the bed frame was going to collapse underneath our combined weight, I was just happy that I hadn’t been groped in my sleep. Spain, once he’d gotten his arms around my waist and my head in the crook of his neck, had kept his hands from wandering; only occasionally rubbing a hand in circular motions on my upper back. España surprisingly hadn’t killed Spain for holding me so close, but rather, after some grumbling, sidled up behind me, coiling one arm around me so that his hand rested flat on my sternum. The other arm underneath so that my cheek was cradled on his bicep and Spain’s neck was resting on his forearm.

     Antonio had eventually rolled over so that he was pressed against Spain’s back, his nose burying in his curls while his left arm trailed over Spain’s side to clasp my hand, intertwining our fingers.

     If I hadn’t have been so angry about having to share my bed with three other men, the sight probably would have been sort of, maybe, kind of cute; especially when they started to snore in sync. Now typically I kick Antonio when he starts to snore, but there was no way to kick all three of them so I let it slide. Besides, it was kind of ador –

     Dammit to hell! I’m doing it again! Those tomato bastards were not cute! I flailed about uselessly as I attempted to untangle myself from them. In response España had tightened the arm around me and nestled his chin on the crown of my head; Spain dug his fingers into my shirt in order to pull me closer; and Antonio pulled on my hand so that it stretched over Spain’s side, eventually stopping when my hand was on Spain’s shoulder blade so that he could then hold my hand in both of his, resting his cheek against the back of it.

     It was a good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic otherwise I would have gone into a panic attack long before now. As it was, I was seriously considering it. I slowly rolled over onto my stomach and got a steady grip onto the sheets beneath me. I took a few cautious glances at the sleeping bastards before slowly backing away, down the bed, and out from under their arms.

       Disentangling my fingers from Antonio’s had been the hardest part, especially since he latched onto my sleeve as soon as I got my hand free. No matter how I shifted or twisted he wouldn’t let go. Dammit, looked like there was only one way out of this.

     I pulled my arm out of the sleeve and once again continued my trail down to the foot of the bed. Spain’s grip on the back of my shirt helped to pull the shirt over my head and before I knew it I was free. I slowly backed the rest of the way off the bed on my hands and knees. No way were those bastards going to catch me again. I set one foot on the floor; my hands still pressed flat to the mattress to stabilize me and then lowered the second one.

     I stood up straight and looked down at them for a few seconds. Spain had grabbed my discarded shirt and pulled it to his chest just beneath his nose, muttering a quiet “Roma”. España on the other hand seemed to realize something was missing because the arm that had previously been around me patted the space in between him and Spain. I had a mini-heart attack when he started to grumble out my name. He reached a little farther forward, his hand coming to rest on Spain’s side. I was sure I was found out, but España just grabbed a hold of Spain and pulled him into the space I had been occupying. Antonio, also noticing the shift, scooted over so he was once again against Spain’s back before threading his arms around the pirate.

      Ah fuck it; even I had to admit that the three of them were pretty cute like this. You know, when España wasn’t going axe happy, Spain wasn’t trying to stick his hands down my pants and Antonio wasn’t being a loud dumbass.

     Cute or not, I was not sticking around to see what they’d do when they found out I’d escaped from their cuddle pile of doom (No I am not exaggerating, that had been mentally scarring)! With that thought in mind I tiptoed out of the room and headed down the stairs to start breakfast. For myself, obviously. No way was I cooking for those sleepy bastards. Perhaps some toast, but that’s it!

* * *

     I’m sure no one is surprised that I ended up making breakfast for the tomato bastards anyways. I glared at said breakfast, which consisted of bread with an assortment of jams, some eggs, and most importantly coffee (I’d need it if I was going to deal with them this morning) as it sat innocently on the table with the plates stacked beside it for whenever those bastards decided to wake up. Judging by the pained yelp and muffled cursing it wouldn’t be long before España stomped down the stairs and tried to hunt me down. Spain probably wouldn't be far behind.

     I braced myself for the yelling and the accusations that would be thrown around as soon as the three of them came down the stairs. Well, Antonio would probably just sit down and happily start to munch on his breakfast, no doubt handing out cheerful compliments on my cooking (Not that I was looking forward to that), it would be Spain and España that would do the yelling. I could hear footsteps on the stairs already; they were soft though so it was probably just Antonio. There were still snarls coming down through the floorboards from my room.

     No doubt Antonio would start to squeal about how cute I was and thank me for making breakfast. Then he’d probably hug me and squeal some more and – wait. Why did I hear gravel crunching? I drifted out of the kitchen and towards the window at the front of the house. Pulling back the curtains just a crack, I peered out the window; a car swerved around Antonio’s Ibiza and came to a halt right in front of my garage. I’d be willing to bet that was on purpose too as I watched _her_ step out of the little car that was currently blocking my only escape route (unless I willingly took Antonio’s shit car).

    “Holy shit.” I darted towards the front door. Oh god, please, please let Antonio have locked the door before I was tackled yesterday! Better yet, let that paranoid Conquistador have locked the door last night! I practically slammed into the door as I tried to slide to a halt. “Oh thank god, it’s locked!” I quickly backed away from the door. If I didn’t answer maybe she would go away! Oh please let her go away.

     “Lovi?” Antonio called from the kitchen. Dammit, no! If she saw Antonio here she would start to think all kinds of crazy shit. Even worse! What if she found out about the others?! That damn pervert would probably have all kinds of sick fantasies about that. “Lovi, where are you? I want to thank you for making breakfast.” Cockshitfuck!

     I was about to run to the kitchen and shove Antonio, breakfast and all, back up the stairs when a voice called from the other side of the door, “ _Romano_.” Oh please no. Not her! Anyone but her! I backed away from the door, afraid to take my eyes off it lest she kick it down or appear in front of it in a puff of smoke. “I know you’re there, _Romano_.” Please no, please no! “Just open the door, _Romano_!” Shit, is this what Russia felt like whenever his batshit sister came after him?! “ _Romano_ , either you open this door or I will.” And she would to.

     I swallowed what little courage I had, and unlocked the door. She slammed the door open before I even had a chance to twist the handle, it would have smashed my face in had I not leapt back fast enough. “Hello, Hungary.” I croaked, slowly backing away once again. “How-how did you get here?”

       “Oh sweetie, I drove here obviously. And to think I thought you were the smart one in the relationship.” She shook her head and tutted at me. She fucking tutted. “Speaking of, where is that sexy Spaniard of yours?”

      “My sexy what!?” I squeaked, my face heating up. “And how the fuck do you even know where I live!? I moved without telling yo – without telling anyone where I was moving to!” Dammit, I thought when I’d moved she wouldn’t show up anymore and pester me to “confess my undying love for Antonio”.

       She just gave me a Cheshire grin “I have my way, Romano” In other words she bribed/blackmailed/threatened the location out of Feliciano. “Now get out of my way, dear, and let me in the house.”

       “No!” The grin on her face grew. “I mean, um, no I’m…cleaning?” She gave me a dubious look before barging in anyways. Yeah, it was a pathetic excuse. Me? Cleaning? As fucking if! I still couldn’t clean worth shit; Antonio could vouch for that.

     “What exactly are you hiding in here, Romano? Hmm?” By the smirk she gave me she already knew the answer to her question. I looked over her shoulder. Shit, that’s right! Antonio’s shitty little car is sitting in the driveway.

     Hungary pushed past me and into the house at the sound of footsteps in the kitchen; the force behind that push nearly knocking me down on my ass. “Dammit, Hungary! Get out of my house.” She turned back to give me an unimpressed, borderline bored look.

     “Just get it over with and tell me what you’re hiding, Romano.” That grin was positively evil. Shit, what the fuck was I going to tell her? She no doubt knew Antonio was here. All the same when Antonio poked his head around the corner from the kitchen my eyes widened to the size of saucers and I frantically tried to tell him without moving or speaking that he get his ass back in the kitchen!

      I probably looked like I was having a spasm with my head twitching to the side like that and my eyes darting around because Hungary gave me what I can only call a ‘what-the-ever-loving-fuck?’ look. Antonio had just spotted Hungary and ducked back into the kitchen when the small woman turned around to see what I’d been looking at. Dammit, I think she saw him.

     The victorious look she threw over her shoulder at me as she raced towards the kitchen confirmed my suspicions. I don’t know why I was trying so hard to hide Antonio, she knew without a doubt he was here. I hurried to get in front of her and into the kitchen so that I could chase the tomato bastard away before she got there. Hungary just elbowed me out of the way and strode into the kitchen.

      “Hungary, I can expla–the fuck?” There was no one in the kitchen. Antonio had not only vacated the area but also put away the extra breakfast plates, leaving just a single, unused plate. “Umm…I was having – about to have breakfast when you showed up so I’m sorry that the kitchen is a mess.” The scathing glare she gave me shut me and my rambling excuses up real fast.

     “Come on, Romano.” She ground out. “Let’s go find what you are hiding, hmm?” The grin she gave me as she snatched my arm and pulled my out of the kitchen was terrifyingly pleasant. “Well, where is he, Romano?”

      “W-where is wh-who?” Hungary was thoroughly unamused now. Her grip tightened painfully and I couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped me. The psychotic grin she gave me as she squeezed didn’t help.

     “You know who, Romano. Now where is – ” creaking footsteps on the stairs is what stopped her. The pained yelp is no doubt what drew his attention and it wasn’t a few seconds before Spain, not Antonio or España or anyone who I knew would behave themselves, came down the stairs. His eyes flicked between Hungary and I before he gave that crazy bitch a smile that sent chills up my spine; the shiver that passed through the hand grasping my wrist told me it did the same to her. Hungary quickly let go of my arm, jerking back as if burned.

     As soon as I was no longer being harmed Spain seemed to have forgotten completely about Hungary and instead focused entirely on me. His smirked quickly turned predatory and he sauntered towards me. Before I could run away he had wrapped his arms around me and his hands slid down into my back pockets in order to cup my ass. “How is my feisty little querido this morning?” He purred as he used the grip on my ass to pull me close and grind our hips together.

      I’m not sure what was worse, that Hungary immediately went down in a spray of blood, clutching tissues to her nose as she tried to stay conscious or that the reason she went down was because Spain’s movement was so sudden I had been unable to stop the moan it caused in time and had to fist my hands into Spain’s shirt to keep standing.

     “I knew it!” Hungary declared as soon as she was able to stand again. “Kiku will be so happy when I tell him. I told him you two had gotten together, but he said you were too tsundere to have accepted him so quickly! But I knew it. You two were much too clingy at the World Conference to not be together.”

       “What!? No! nononono! Spain and I are not together” She shook her head disbelievingly, chuckling a bit to herself. “I’m straight, dammit!” I turned a glare on Spain when he snorted.

       “Ah, sí. That is why you moaned and clung to me so tightly just now, isn’t it, mi amado?” He snickered as he nipped at my ear.

       “I only moaned because you caught me by surprise, bastard!” I hissed, grabbing his wrists and trying to get him to remove his hands from my back pockets. That asshole was stubborn though and just squeezed as he once more drew our hips together. I bit my lower lip to stop myself from making any sort of noise this time.

      “Is that so?” He continued to softly nibble on my ear. He traced the shell of my ear with the tip of his tongue drawing a gasp from me. “Is that why you gasp so beautifully, mi amante?” He made his way down, leaving kisses on the column of my neck. “Is that why your eyes are closed and your hands are grasping the back of my shirt?” He removed one of the hands from my pocket and slid it up, palm flat against my back, to support me as my back arched and my head bent back to give him better access. Against my will, dammit! I’m not sure what was going on, but I wasn’t in control of my own actions anymore. Dammit, I did not want this!

     I did not want this. I _swear_ I did not want this! I would never – oh! A little to the right, please. He moved as if reading my mind, nibbling instead on the spot beneath my ear. Oh god, yes. My fingers once more tangled into the back of his shirt and held on for dear life. Damn, why didn’t I want this? It felt so nice and won –

     “Shit!” I shoved Spain off of me as I not only remembered Hungary was here, no doubt staining my floor with her blood, but this was Spain. _Spain_! I did not want Spain or any other man molesting me like this. “Dammit, you bastard. Quit doing that.” Spain just rolled his eyes and slid his hand down into my back pocket again. “I mean it dammit. I’m not –I’m  not interested.” He snorted again. “Plus Hungary is here and you’ll give her the wrong idea!”

      “The wrong idea?” He looked over at Hungary, who had somewhat collected herself and was merely giving us that pervy grin of hers as she stood to the side. “What idea is it that we seem to have given her, tesoro?” I glared at him as I practically watched the gears turn in his head. “That I want to claim you? Throw you down and take you?” He purred. Hungary flushed nearly as red as I did; for different reasons of course. “Or did I give her the idea that I want to cover every inch of your skin with kisses as you writhe beneath me?” He rolled his hips a second time. “To pleasure you until you _scream_ my name as I plunge in to your tight little -”

     I slapped both hands over his mouth, feeling my face burning all the way up to my ears. “Yes, you dumbass! I don't want you giving her those sorts of false ideas.” I glared into his eyes for a few seconds before slowly letting go; worried I’d have to stop him from saying even more lusty things.

     “Fine, I will say no more, mi vida. But, I still don’t see how that would be giving Miss Hungary the _wrong_ idea.” He leaned down to press his lips to my ear. “Because I very much want those things, Romano, and I’m pretty sure,” he leaned closer so that he was whispering the words directly into my ear, “you do to.”

     “I-I-I do not!” I denied loudly, once again attempting to shove him away. “You don’t know what I want. Besides, even if I di-did want y-yo- _that_ , I would not let you tell Hungary anything about it. She’d want to watch.” I shuddered at the thought.

     “You would not have to worry about that, mi cariño” He vowed, nuzzling into my hair. “As I told France, you are for my eyes only. I will not let anyone else see or have that which is _mine_.”

     “Not yours” I grumbled, pushing him away carefully. I turned the fiercest glare I could muster on Hungary, who was mostly unaffected by it, probably too busy fantasizing about Spain and I together. “Hungary, not that I don’t enjoy your visits, we both know I fucking hate them, but could you leave – and don’t you start thinking that it’s because I want to be alone with Spain – .”

      “ _Sure_ , Romano” She shared a conspiratorial wink with Spain. “That’s obviously not the reason.” She turned around and started for the door. “I’ll see you soon, Romano. Have fun, Spain. Romano, be sure to leave a few scratches on his back for me when you two start screwing like rabbits.” She waved and was out of the door before I could tell her that absolutely nothing was or would be happening between Spain and I.

      I watched the door shut behind her. I got out of that much better than I had expected to. Sure Spain’s hands were still groping my ass while I was staring distracted at the front door, but for the most part I’d thought Antonio would walk in like the dumbshit he is or España would accidently walk in, see just where exactly Spain’s hands were and go psycho on him. Had that happened I’d have been scrambling for an excuse rather than scrambling to get Spain’s wandering hands off of my ass.

     “Now,” I glowered up at Spain as he spoke, “what was that about not being mine?” He rumbled, his eyes sliding to half-mast and his lips quirking into a smirk as he observed the new marks he’d left on my skin while Hungary was here.

     “Dammit, you bastard.” I shoved him hard enough that he actually had to let go this time and stomped off towards the kitchen. Why was I so surprised every time I was reminded that he just wanted to screw me? That horny bastard would go after anyone he thought would present their ass to him. Sure that didn’t explain why he was after me, but maybe that sick bastard just liked the challenge. Soon as he won he’d be off chasing someone else.

     Well if there was one thing I knew, it was that I would never let that bastard have the opportunity. Like hell I’d end up underneath him screaming his name or all that other perverted shit he had said.

     When I finally entered the kitchen, Antonio was back at the breakfast table. He smiled widely at me. “Hungary gone?” I just nodded and sat opposite him.

      And what was with all these damn names Spain kept calling me? I probably should have been paying attention when Antonio was trying to teach me Spanish. Shit, the only thing I remember is how to ask for a kiss and that’s only because I had used that line on Belgium back when I’d had a crush on her. It never went anywhere obviously since she saw me as a little brother and I eventually realized I just flirted with her because it made Antonio angry. Still, I probably should have paid attention.

     Antonio asked me if I wanted him to refill my coffee. It was as I looked at him that I realized I could ask _him_ what all this crap Spain was calling me meant. No doubt they were insulting or perverted or whatever else that bastard could think to say.


	13. Ch 12: What's An Amado

* * *

     “Lovi?” His head tilted to the side as I just stood there staring at him.

     Maybe Antonio could tell me what all those things meant. Spain said them, so they couldn’t be good, right?

   “Um, do you want any coffee?”

      I mean, it would make sense that whatever came out of Spain’s mouth was perverted. Lord knows that man can’t keep his hands to himself; he’s almost as bad as the fuckface. At least he’s not worse than France.

     “Mi tomate…are you feeling okay?”

     Eww. Dammit, now I’m thinking of that perverted bastard. Ugh. I swear if he lays a hand on me again I’ll kick him so hard in the balls he won’t be able to speak properly for a year. Same will happen to him if he gropes Antonio’s ass one more damn time. Don’t think I didn’t see his wandering hands at the Conference!

      “Lovino, you’re starting to worry me.”

      It’s not that I’m jealous or anything, but that pervert should learn to keep his hands to himself! God, he just pisses me of so much –

     I was jerked out of my thoughts when a warm hand wrapped around my upper arm. “Lovi, are you alright?” I flinched back, nearly stumbling over my own feet, but Antonio’s grip held me in place.

       “What? Yes! I’m fine, you bastard. Now let go of me, I’ve got a question to ask you” He gave me a startled look but released my arm in order to stare at me expectantly.

       “Ask away, Lovi! If I know the answer I promise to tell mi tomate pequeño!” He vowed, ignoring my no touching rule in order to wind his arms around my shoulders and squeeze me into a hug. “Ahh, tan lindo!”

       “Dammit, bastard. Quit hugging me!” He just shook his head and held on tighter. “Fine, whatever. What does, mi amado mean?”

     Antonio’s arms stiffened around me and he stopped nuzzling his cheek against the top of my head. His embrace suddenly became painful. “Where did you hear that word, Lovi?” Looking up I could see his face was pale and for once he was trying to look at anything but me.

     “Why? Is it bad? I knew that bastard was calling me weird things” I snarled; already planning my retaliation on Spain. “If it’s that bad, then all those other things he called me must be too.”

      “Wh-what other things, Lovi?” He voice sounded hoarse and his face was still unusually pale, but I had squirmed around enough that his grip was no longer bruisingly painful.

       “Well, he called me corazón, and tesoro. He also called me cariño a few times. He says amante every once in a while. I mean, I know what that word means in Italian, but that sure as hell better not mean the same thing in Spanish” There was an audible gulp from Antonio at that one. Shit, what exactly was Spain calling me? “He only recently called me vida” I grumbled.

     “Umm, well, uh. Tesoro means treasure” He whispered as if telling me some big secret. I suppose it would make sense for a pirate to call someone treasure; plus it was the same in Italian…I probably should have realized that sooner. Being called treasure wasn’t really as bad as I’d expected, but it didn’t sound really endearing either. “And amante means l-lo-lover –”

     “Ha! I knew he just wants me for my body!” I’m not sure why that came out sounding so triumphant. That was _not_ a good thing. “What do the other things mean? He calls me amado the most.”

      “W-who calls you these things, L-lovi?” Antonio was blushing now. Damn, I don’t think I’d ever seen him this red before.

       “Spain, obviously” I rolled my eyes. Geez, Antonio has to have heard Spain say those things at least once or twice. He says them all the damn time and – holy shit! Antonio’s entire face blossomed with color. “Mio Dio, and you call _me_ a tomato” He just flushed even more vibrantly at this. “Come on, what do those words mean?”

     “I-I think you should ask Spain what those words mean, Lovi. It’s quite obvious he cares about you a whole lot” The tomato bastard looked upset as he said this. “A lot more than I thought he did.” Dammit, now I had to know what those words mean.

       Shit, here goes my pride, “Please, Antonio,” Fuck. I even stuck out my lower lip in a pout “, tell me what those words mean” Disregard what I said earlier, _now_ Antonio’s face was redder than it had ever been. Damn, even his ears were tomato red.

      “L-love - Lovi! Umm-I _really_ think you should go find Spain and talk to him about this. I–uh–I have to be somewhere else right now. Umm…over there! Bye!” His arms released me so fast I nearly hit the floor. What the fuck!? He darted from the room as if his heels were on fire. I don’t think I’d seen anyone, not even Feliciano, run that fast.

       “Hey! Clean up the mess Hungary left!” I called after the bastard as he ran away like the coward he is.

       I glared at the place where he had disappeared before spinning around to face Antonio’s abandoned breakfast. I decided to clean up before I went off in search of Spain. Give myself time to mentally prepare for the impending molestation.

      I really, really should have paid attention when Antonio was giving me Spanish lessons, because I’m pretty sure bésame wasn’t going to be useful in the conversation I was about to have with Spain.

* * *

     Spain wasn’t standing where I had left him (next to the pool of Hungary’s nose blood), but neither was Antonio; not that I had actually expected him to listen and clean up the mess. He had probably retreated to the tomato garden. Perhaps if I followed Antonio out there and pouted enough he’d tell me. That way I wouldn’t have to go hunt down Spain and risk molestation.

     “Antonio!” I called out as I headed down the halls and outside. I heard feet as they scrambled in the opposite direction. Oh no, he was not running from me. I darted down the hall, my bare feet slapping on the floorboards. I swung open the screen door to the back porch only to hear the scrambling feet heading up the stairs back in the house.

      I glared back in the direction I just came and was about to give chase when a head of curly hair caught my attention from out in the garden. As far as I was aware, Antonio was the only one who actually liked being out in the garden. That wouldn’t explain who was running in the house though. España didn’t run. Not from anything or anyone. Also, I couldn’t see Spain purposefully avoiding me.

     I tiptoed down the porch steps, my bare feet squishing softly in the damp ground as they padded across the small dirt path and into the garden.

      I could hear the tomato bastard humming to himself as he kneeled next to one of my tomato plants. It had been a long time since I had heard that particular tune. I’d been a colony the last time I heard it. I didn’t remember the name and probably couldn’t if my life depended on it, it had been that long.

     I snuck up behind Antonio, getting ready to tackle him to the ground if I had to should he run away. My heart froze as he stood up a tomato in hand and brushed the dirt off on his shirt.

     Shit!

     I stumbled backwards, away from the tomato bastard as quietly as possible. Should have known it would be him. I tripped backwards on one of the tomato vines, landing on my ass in the mud.

     “Ow! Son of a bitch that hurt!” I snarled, knowing that there was no way I would be able to sneak away now.

     Spain spun around, tomato still clutched in his hand as he stared down at me. A smirk slowly spread across his face. There was something ridiculously filthy about the way he looked down at me. “Ah, hola, mi amado.” He purred, offering me his other hand to pull me to my feet.

     Shit. He had to call me _that_. Well, I suppose now was as good a time as any to ask him what exactly he was calling me. Damn that bastard Antonio for running off when I actually needed his help.

       “What did you just call me, you bastard?”


	14. Ch 13: My Beloved

* * *

     “I called you mi amado.”

     “I know that, asshole, but what does it mean!?” I crossed my arms and tried to glare up at him as convincingly as possible from where I sat in the dirt. I’d get an answer out of him one way or another.

       Then again, did I even want to know what that meant? What if it was insulting? Sure none of the other things he said, or at least the ones Antonio had translated for me, were insulting, but who’s to say this or the other things weren’t? Worse yet, what if all the things were really perverted.

      Never mind, I’ve already gone through all this trouble, so I may as well see it through. “Come on, bastard. Tell me what amado means.”

     “You do not know?” Spain questioned as he took my hand and pulled me onto my feet in front of him, not releasing my hand even after I was balanced. “I thought I gave you Spanish lessons” His brows scrunched together as he gave me a perplexed look. “You really do not know all the wonderful things I have been calling you, Roma?”

      “Yeah, you gave me Spanish lessons, but I didn’t learn anything from them” I growled, snatching my hand back from him so I could cross my arms once again. “So no, I don’t know what any of these _wonderful_ things you’ve been calling me mean.”

      “I am sorry, my little Roma. If I had known you did not understand I would have tried to make myself clearer” He made to grab my hand again. “I did not wish for you to feel confused or insulted.” I gave him an unconvinced look. “Honest! That was not my intention, Roma.” Right, like I was going to trust the word of a pirate.

      “Just tell me what it means, dammit!” I hissed as I tried to free my hand again. “I don’t care what your intentions were. Actually, I’m pretty clear on your _intentions_ ” He’d even told me his intentions (plow me into a mattress) not too long ago in front of Hungary.

     He let out a frustrated sigh. “While I may _want_ you, Roma, that is not my only _intention_ concerning you. If you would let me tell you what amado means, you would know.”

      “Fine, what does it mean?” I snarled, glaring back at him. As if that bastard wanted anything more than to take my vir – than to screw me and chase after the next target.

      “When I call you mi amado, I do not call you so lightly. Perhaps at first I did, but my intentions…my feelings, have grown past the simple lust they once were.” He let go of my hand in order to card his fingers through my hair. “I care for you deeply, Roma. I always have. Even when you were little, you were the only one I truly cared for, the only one I came home for. Granted it was not in the same way as I do now, but you are still the only one I really care for. I’m sure if you asked España he would tell you the same thing. Well, assuming he hasn’t already.”

      I could feel the blush spread across my face, but I forced it and the embarrassment I felt back down. “That’s nice and all, but you still haven’t told me what amado means.”

      He ran his fingers through my hair a few times and smiled warmly at me. “It means, that you are my beloved, Roma” He leaned forward, using the grip on my hair to pull me closer, and kissed my forehead.

     I shoved him away. “No.” I didn’t get very far since his hand was still in my hair. “You can call me whatever you want, but there is no way I’m going to believe that you actually l-lov-that you actually care for me like that.” The glare I received for my outburst did nothing to quiet me; I was too angry that he’d lie to me like this to give a damn about any repercussions. “I get that for some odd reason you want me, but you’ve been too much of a horndog for me to believe that you have any real feelings towards me. Especially not with all the other things you call me.”

      “The other things I call you?” He tilted his head to the side once more giving me a perplexed look. “Do you mean my dear? My darling? My treasure, my life, my angel, my lov –”

     “Your lover.” I hissed. “You call me your lover a lot, and last time I checked, lover implied that we were…involved – which we are not! That is most certainly not true. So if that’s not true, how do I know any of the others are?” I gave him a triumphant smirk. Let’s see him try to justify himself now.

     He dropped his hand from my hair and down to cup my cheek. “All of the endearments I call you are very heartfelt and sincere” He pressed his forehead to mine. Dammit, he was too close. Too close! Backing up was difficult if not impossible, since the bastard took my distraction as an opportunity to encircle my hips with his arm. That tomato he’d been carrying earlier still in hand and pressed gently to my side. “Yes, you are not my lover, not mi amante. But, I hope that one day you will be. Not just because I want you, but because waking up and falling asleep to your beautiful face every morning and night, would be more heaven than I deserve.”

    He stared down at his feet a few seconds, tightening the grip on my waist. “I hope that one day you will believe me, and see yourself the way I see you.” He whispered against my cheek.

    “D-dammit,” I nudged him away from me, managing to free myself from his arms, “don't say such embarrassing things, bastard. Do you have any idea how corny you sound?”

     He just laughed. “I do not see what maíz has to do with my feelings for you, mi amor.” I flinched; I _knew_ what that one meant. “Now, I picked this lovely tomato for my beautiful amado, so I want you to have it.” With this said, Spain held out the tomato to me. I eyed the red fruit cautiously, not that I honestly believe Spain did anything to it, but it never hurt to be careful.

     As soon as I reach for it he held it high over his head and simply shook his head at me. “Ah ah ah, Roma. If you want this tomato, bésame.” He purred, tapping his lips with his index finger. I decided not to point out that I could simply pick my own if I really wanted to.

     Shit, should have known Spain would ask for something like this. “Hell no, you jackass. Just give me the damn tomato and I’ll be on my way.”

      Spain’s arm looped around my waist, the other still high above his head, keeping the tomato just out of reach. “I don’t think so, mi amado. Come on, Roma, just one little beso.” He pouted, as I grabbed onto his wrist and tried to force his arm down.

     “No, you bastard!” I snarled. He jerked his wrist free and held his arm out slightly behind him, so I had to reach over him for the tomato.

     He sighed. “Fine, you may have the tomato, mi amor” He grumbled, holding the tomato within reach.

     “About time, jackass.” I growled, reaching towards the tomato. My hand had just closer around the red fruit, when he pulled back again, pulling my arm with him and causing me to trip forwards. Bastard did this on purpose. You want to know how I know he did this on purpose? Because as I was stumbling into him, Spain released the hold on my waist so he could grasp my chin and tilt it up, so that my momentum forced our lips together.

     Holy Shit.

     Spain!

     Spain was…

      Oh God, no!

     Spain was kissing me.

     The tomato fell from my hand as Spain released his grip in order to wrap an arm around my waist again. The other hand tilted my chin up further to deepen the kiss before sliding back up into my hair. He hummed contentedly against my lips as the hand on my back tangled into my shirt so he could drag me closer.

      I grabbed onto his sleeve, unsure what exactly my hand thought it was doing. Damn it to hell I was not enjoying it. This was my fir-first-oh…shit, where did he learn to kiss like that? All kisses couldn’t feel like this, could they? Was this just something exclusive to Spain or had I been missing out all these centuries by waiting for my first kiss – not that I hadn’t had the opportunity or anything, but I wanted-had wanted to wait for the right person – I don’t fucking care how girly that sounds, dammit!

     The swipe of a tongue on my lower lip jerked me back into reality and I punched that asshole in the face. “You-you-you bastard!” I quickly covered my mouth. “How-how could you?” I backed away from him. “That was my f – why did you…I – I…” Dammit, I was starting to tremble.

      Spain rubbed at his cheek, “Damn, you hit hard when you want to, mi angelito.” He chuckled. He started to smile down at me, but a look of confusion slowly started to cover his face. “What’s wrong, mi amado? I’m sorry if I startled you, but I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you.” Concern was quickly over taking the initial confusion. “Or-or did you hate it? I’m sorry, mi tesoro. I didn’t think you would mi –.” I shoved him away.

      “Don’t do things like that so-so sudden – I mean at all!” Spain smirked down at me. “And before you ask, no I did not like it…” _Much_ “I don’t want you ki-kissing me. Not at all.” Dammit, the more I talked, the more flustered I got. My face was no doubt the same color as the tomato I had just dropped.

     “You didn’t like it?” He teased. He slid his arm around my hips and pulled me against him again. “Is that why you’ve flushed such a beautiful color and why you aren’t pushing me away.” He stroked my back slowly. “You had me worried there, querido. I thought for a second you hadn’t like it. Then again, you were kissing me, there was no way you couldn’t have liked it.” God, could his ego get any bigger. “Don’t worry, mi amado, from now on I’ll _warn_ you first.”

     I should punch him again. Right now. “That’s not the problem, asshole!” He flinched, ceasing to stroke my back. “You stole my first kiss, you dick!” I’m not sure which of the two of us looked more surprised.  I quickly covered my mouth again before I could let out any more embarrassing secrets. Spain stared at me for a few minutes, his eyes wider than I’d ever seen before and he blushed as he looked down at my lips.

     “I-I am sorry, Roma.” Damn right you should be! “I did not know” That’s why you shouldn’t kiss someone so suddenly. “On second thought, I am not sorry.” Wait, what?! “I do not want anyone else, man or woman, kissing you.” He took my chin in between his thumb and index finger, pulling me closer. “These lips are mine and mine alone to kiss, mi amor.” He purred, leaning forward to take another kiss.

      I slapped a hand over his mouth. “Don’t even think about it, bastard. Do _not_ kiss me again.” I could feel him smirk beneath my hand. He started to kiss my palm, I should have known after the first time this happened.

      “Your lips say no, but your eyes and your blush say yes, mi vida. Dios, if I had known that was your first, I’d have made it much more special for you, mi amor.”

      “No, they don’t!” I snarled, half-tempted to cover my eyes as if that would convince him.

     He snickered. “I’ll just have to make sure your other _first_ is unforgettable.” No, he did _not_ just say that. I can’t believe that he would imply something like – oh wait, yes I can believe that.

     “You know what, I’m out of here!” I twisted until Spain released me from his arms. I darted to the porch. “Do not kiss me again!” I yelled over my shoulder once I reached the porch.

     I stumbled into the house to the sound of Spain’s laughter. “I know you are just playing hard to get! I can promise you, I will work hard to earn you, mi amor!”

      That damned bastard. So what if he honestly cares for me? Not that he does! But even if he did, he should know I’m not interested in men, especially not obnoxious Spanish men. Besides, I know that he just wants me for…he just likes my ass for some reason. If Feliciano were here, Spain would no doubt go after him. I’m sure of it.

      Son of a bitch. I left the tomato back there. Well, there’s no way in hell I’m going back for it. Spain will just try and kiss me again and I did not want that…not now, not ever.


End file.
